The Revelation
by HeyBats
Summary: What if the Greek Witch Circe had demanded Batman reveal his secret identity to the world as payment to release Wonder Woman from the spell Circe had used to turn Diana into a pig? Completed May 05'
1. Admission

**The Revelation**

Author Note: In the Third episode of Season #1 of JLU entitled "This Little Piggy", the Greek Witch (and one of the most prolific foes of the Amazons), Circe turns Wonder Woman into a pig. To help lift the spell, Batman enlists Zatanna, a mage and former girlfriend/associate League member. While other members of the League search for the missing Wonder-Pig (who ultimately ends up at a slaughterhouse awaiting her demise), Batman and Zatanna confront Circe on the island of Mykonos. Circe is there performing a nightclub routine in an attempt to show up her cousins, the Sirens. During the battle, Circe agrees to Diana's safe return but demands an exaction. Agreeing to her terms, Batman performs the song "Am I Blue?", thereby freeing Diana from pig-dom. This story assumes an alternate ending where Circe demands the revelation of Batman's identity.

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Zatanna's attacks on Circe caused no apparent damage. After Batman and Zatanna had dispensed of Circe's counter-attack (which consisted of turning her five male background singers into man-eating beasts), Circe was about to resume her attack.

"Wait," Batman interrupted, raising his hand to signify a request for a temporary truce. "It seems that magic always has a price."

Circe floated down from her imperious perch above Batman and Zatanna. "Your point?"

Batman's voice softened suddenly. Zatanna slipped a quick glance at him, shocked by the fragile quality of his voice. "What would I have to give to release your spell on Diana?"

Circe immediately perked up and dropped even lower until she was looking straight into the man's eyes. "Well, now you're making it interesting," she gloated, then leaned in. "I want something of yours that is so precious, so secret that once lost, it will never be regained. Something so shattering…"

"I can sing a decent lounge act." He admitted, hoping her recent stint on the stage would fuel her interest in watching Batman belt out a tune.

"Are you sure you can't do better than that?" Circe taunted him. "I'm not sure I really gain any magic by listening to a bad karaoke act. How about you pull off those pointy ears for the whole world to see instead?"

Batman's eyes narrowed with fear since the first time since Zatanna had known him, then his head drooped in resignation.

"Fine," he whispered. "Tell the world my identity."

"Are you sure you're not holding anything back? Something juicy?" Circe taunted.

"It will be more than enough," Zatanna interrupted angrily, then her tone softened when she remembered that as a goddess, Circe would gladly transform anybody who dared defy her into a pig. "Trust me," Zatanna pleaded softly. "It will be enough."

Circe considered the request for a few seconds, then nodded with approval. Smirking with delight, she floated back to the stage. "I'm trying to think of the best way to share the good news with the world. Any suggestions?"

"You can always put an antennae on your head and follow the signal." Batman snarled, then dropped his head in resignation. "Just drop into a network studio and make the announcement whenever it suits you."

"It suits me now." Circe replied with a wink, then vanished in a poof of purple smoke.

Zatanna and Batman looked at each other glumly. Zatanna reached out and laced her fingers through his for reassurance, but she couldn't find any words of reassurance that would help the situation. He looked up, locking his now-fearful eyes on hers.

"Are you sure you can do this, Bruce?" she whispered.

"There's no other choice." He replied gravely.

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Diana awoke with a start. She looked up and realized she was on a conveyor belt. By the smell that assailed her nostrils and the animal carcasses hanging by hooks above her, she realized she was in some kind of meat-packing facility. Sitting up, her heightened senses helped her narrowly escape the down-stroke of a scythe-like tool that by the looks of it was used for decapitation. Angrily, she took flight. Gaining altitude, she blasted through the wall leading back to the main processing room. Her arms were still bound by rope. Without a glance, the rope landed on the floor in tatters. Three men wearing butcher's aprons stood slackjawed, dumbfounded by her sudden appearance. They fled the room in fear, each carrying the memory of Diana's angry expression with them for the rest of their lives.

Diana watched the men flee. They were all clad in white butcher's aprons. Beyond them, the small herd of pigs squealed with fear at their impending slaughter. It didn't surprise Diana that she'd almost ended up as someone's breakfast.

She gritted her teeth then snarled "Circe," before exiting the slaughterhouse, furiously searching the grounds outside for the Greek Witch. Having no luck, she doubled back to check the slaughterhouse for any signs of Batman. There were no obvious signs that Circe had turned him into a pig but she decided to err on the side of caution, inspecting the next cage of animals. Satisfied that none of them had the brooding demeanor she knew would have carried on with him even into pig-dom, Diana elected to smash the remaining machines into rubble to save the pigs from slaughter.

She felt a momentary surge of relief flood through her before she realized Circe could have turned him into any one of the thousands of pigs awaiting their demise in the slaughterhouse. Realizing that it would take days if not weeks to identify a potential Bat-pig, Diana reached to trigger her comm link to the Watchtower then frowned, realizing the ear-piece was missing.

Fraught with anxiety, she rushed into the now-abandoned manager's office and located a phone. By rote memory she dialed a number, waited for the pager beep, then dialed an access code which forwarded automatically to the Watchtower Monitor Womb.

"J'onn are you there?" she sighed with relief when she heard his deep baritone inquire her identity and pass-code. "It's Diana. 51554."

"Where are you?" the Martian inquired.

"I'm in a slaughterhouse," she admitted ruefully, then had a quick thought. Glancing down, she realized the LCD display on the phone showed the number she was calling from. "The area code on this phone says I'm in Gotham."

"Wait one…" J'onn responded. "Confirmed. The trace shows you near Hell's Gate. Do you require transport?"

"Negative. Where is Batman?" she asked, carefully measuring her next move. "I'd prefer a direct transport to his location."

"He's on a mission. I'll bring you here to wait for him. Teleporting in two, one…", then the world dematerialized in front of her.

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Circe's quick disappearance after Batman's identity confession left Zatanna and Batman flat-footed on Mykonos, without a viable means of transport. Zatanna had used most of the magic at her disposal to engage Circe in battle and literally had nothing left in the tank for pursuit. For her part, Zatanna was somewhat relieved as she was in no mood to engage a sorceress who'd demonstrated measurably more power than Zatanna had ever aspired to. A few seconds after Circe disappeared, Bruce gathered his thoughts then had glanced at Zatanna, hoping they might follow a fresh trail of magic. One shake of Zatanna's head told him a second battle with the Greek witch would have to wait another day. Frustrated, they stared at each other for a moment, trying to determine their next course of action.

"What do we do now?" she asked, forcing a smile. "I've spent too much of my powers to take us anywhere past the door."

"Let's find Diana." He replied with a shrug. "Then we'll figure out later what Circe has planned in her future."

Batman triggered his comm link. "Watchtower… two to transport from these coordinates."

A moment later, Batman and Zatanna materialized on the Watchtower transporter pad. Diana stood in front of them, waiting impatiently for the final stage of the materialization process to end. Zatanna privately smiled when she saw Diana's eyes light up when Batman appeared before her. Given the raw emotion displayed on the Amazon's face, Zatanna's first instinct was that Diana was going to kiss Batman in front of the assembled crew of Leaguers and technicians. Diana took two rapid strides toward Batman, hesitated, then stopped when she realized Zatanna had accompanied Batman on the mission. Zatanna realized that the Amazon was experiencing a moment of doubt about whether her appearance with Bruce signified anything more than a professional relationship.

For her part, Zatanna was torn between her feelings of relief that a teammate had been rescued juxtaposed against the jealousy she felt toward the Amazon. Zatanna was jealous that her relationship with Batman had never moved past the initial lust they'd experienced as young adults. Zatanna looked fondly back at those memories but as a woman, she was jealous that Bruce and Diana were looking at each other in such a way that was reserved for only the truly intimate or those who were about to be.

"Thank Hera you're okay." Diana finally whispered, electing to maintain a professional distance from Bruce. "I was worried Circe had done something to you." Ignoring Zatanna completely, Diana finally gave into her initial desire and almost pounced on the Dark Knight, wrapping her arms around his neck in a quick embrace.

Zatanna bit her lip choking back the laugh screaming to escape her mouth. Knowing Bruce as well as she did, she knew the "PDA" (public display of affection) in front of such a large audience was probably killing him inside. He stood quietly with his arms at his sides, not responding to her embrace but to Zatanna's surprise (and regret), not shrugging out of it either. A moment later, Diana meekly withdrew her arms from around his neck then took two steps back to give him a little more space. He gave her a quick once-over inspection, looking for signs of damage. Finding nothing wrong with her, Bruce almost allowed himself to show a sign of relief however a stern expression maintained its hold on his face. "Circe ignored me entirely." He shrugged lamely. "Apparently, I didn't hold much interest for her."

Diana nodded with understanding even though she had no memory of anything since their original encounter with the Goddess outside the Natural History Museum. She spied Zatanna standing off to the side. Realizing she was being somewhat rude, she warmly nodded a greeting, returned in kind by the petite brunette.

"Did Zatanna help?" Diana asked, confused as to why the Dark Knight would be dragging along a part-time member on his mission. "What did I miss?"

Before he could answer, Zatanna stepped in front of Batman. "Everything," she answered casually. Zatanna linked her arm inside of Diana's, then started the two of them off with a stroll down the corridor. "Why don't we go back to the infirmary and let me give you a quick once-over? I want to make sure that Circe didn't leave any residual spells on you."

Diana nodded in agreement, then swiveled her head back to look at Batman. "Guess I'll see you later? I'd still like to know what I missed."

"Zatanna can fill you in," he replied in a professional monotone which raised the hackles on the back of Diana's neck (it infuriated her that everything she thought the two of them were making a breakthrough, he found some means to delay their big "talk" for another time). Turning his back on the two women, he huddled with J'onn. Diana's expression clouded with uncertainty as the two men started discussing what looked to be a private matter when Vibe interrupted their conversation.

"Uhhhhh Bats, you may want to check Monitor #10." Vibe announced. "The screencrawl might interest you."

Batman strode over to the control panel. He flipped two buttons to slave the signal from that Monitor to the larger screen displayed on the wall, then turned up the volume. Diana glanced over her shoulder one more time then stopped in her tracks. Exasperated, Zatanna gave up trying to lead Diana down the hallway then turned to figure out what was piquing everyone's interest. Given their distance, the two women could only hear flashes of what was being broadcast, so they started walking back to the Monitor Womb to hear the news broadcast.

A male reporter on CNN was seated in a chair overlooking the studios near the Time Warner Center at Columbus Circle.

Opposite the reporter sat Circe. Clad in a tasteful two-piece suit that looked like it came straight off the rack from Diane Sawyer's wardrobe, the Greek Witch had gone to great lengths to appear fashionable for her interview. She'd even daubed some makeup on her nose to avoid the shine caused by the bright lights on fair-skinned people. The reporter nodded at the camera then intoned:

"We interrupt our regular programming to bring you this exclusive interview with Circe, the legendary Goddess of Homeric mythology."

"Do I look like a myth to you?" she asked, eyes narrowing sharply.

The reporter gulped, then reconsidered his approach. "Circe, probably the most powerful Goddess to appear in our world to date, has dropped by our studios today." He sat back in his chair then took a moment to wipe his brow. "I understand that you would like to make an announcement?"

Circe pursed her lips at the man, drumming her fingers on the armrest of her chair as she debated whether to change him into a sloth, then finally dismissed him with a wave. He vanished off camera with a puff of smoke, reappearing in his dressing room a moment later, then soiled himself in shock.

Circe faced the camera head on, cleared her throat with a smile, then started to speak, "Earlier today, one of your so-called Justice League members decided to pay a price for his teammate's freedom. I didn't think he'd have the guts to go through with it, but a deal is a deal so I get to share an interesting tidbit of news with the whole world."

Circe waited a moment for the drama to build up, then purred, "Ladies and Gentlemen: there is a man, a mortal no less, who likes to dress up in a cape and cowl at night to prowl the streets of Gotham. I don't know much about him except for one juicy detail that a few of you might find interesting. Batman by day is known by another name: Bruce Wayne."

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The crowd of superheroes watching the video screen collectively let out a gasp when Circe revealed the secret. Unsettled murmurs and stares immediately settled on the Dark Knight. Those who weren't in the know as to his identity processed the news, shocked that such a brilliant deception could be carried out for such a long time while his original teammates winced as they knew a bombshell had just landed on their doorstep. For his part, Batman took the news stoically, cataloguing Circe's babble onscreen for a few more seconds before finally switching off the Monitor. To no one's surprise, Batman displayed no visible reaction to the public revelation of his identity.

He flipped an intercom switch then barked "Computer, acknowledge deep command Omega, Omega, Omega."

"Confirmed. Password please."

"91939," He muttered, then turned to walk out of the Monitor Womb to make his way to the Transporter. Diana intercepted him before he could leave. Gently, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, enveloping him in an embrace from which he could not flee.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She whispered, all the while knowing Bruce would be loathe to chance another encounter between Diana and the witch.

"Couldn't be helped." He murmured in reply. Lightly shrugging out of her embrace, he gently nudged her out of the way so he could make his way to the transporter. "We'll talk later, I've got to get to the Manor before anything happens to Alfred."

Diana nodded in understanding as he increased his pace towards the transport pads, then smiled when Superman appeared almost out of nowhere in front of the Dark Knight's path. "Do you want to lend me a Batsuit? We could have a joint press conference to debunk the story."

Clark was surprised when his counterpart reached out and grabbed his shoulder, an intimate a gesture as he'd ever seen his friend make. "I appreciate the thought, Clark. I do. You're good but you're not that good. Unless you want to become Batman for the rest of your life, it would only delay the inevitable. Your reporter cronies would be chasing me 24 hours a day, waiting for me to pull on the cowl the one time you're away in Metropolis." He released his grip on the Kryptonian then started his path to the transporter again.

"But it would at least delay the inevitable." Clark protested to the retreating figure. "Besides, you've worked so hard and long to protect your identity."

"Delay is the deadliest form of denial." Batman replied with his usual smirk, "Besides, Bruce Wayne was just a cover to pay for all of my expenses." He dematerialized on the transport platform as Superman looked on in shock at the statement.

Diana and Zatanna approached Superman as the transport process completed its cycle. "What's going to happen to him?" Diana asked.

"I wish I knew." Zatanna replied, nervously drumming her fingers against each other to quell her anxiety. "But I for one don't like that statement one bit. Does he really think he's not Bruce Wayne anymore?"

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	2. Contingencies

Chapter 2 – Contingencies 

Batman materialized in the transporter pad in the Batcave. While the transporter on the Watchtower could beam anybody to any location on Earth, J'onn had found it minimized the Watchtower's power consumption to pre-position receiving units in frequented locations (the Cave, a warehouse in Metropolis, etc). Batman stepped out of the pad, took a moment to weigh his next action, then strode up the staircase to the Manor. Having been alerted as to the transporter's activation, Alfred was waiting for him at the grandfather clock, phone in hand. Despite his long-standing policy to maintain a stiff-upper lip, the white pallor over Alfred's face betrayed the fear and dread he was obviously experiencing. While the valet had known this day was likely to come since the day Bruce donned the cap and cowl, he'd feared it nonetheless. Now that it had come to pass, Alfred could literally feel the dread manifesting itself like a cold lump of lead in his stomach.

Bruce raised his eyebrow behind the cowl, asking who was on the private line.

"It's Lucius, Master Bruce, wanting to know if there's any truth to the rumors the Greek Witch broadcast earlier today."

"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce muttered, taking the phone. He allowed himself the luxury of a deep breath to settle his thoughts, then as an afterthought, pulled the cowl off his head. He trudged a few steps towards the portrait of his parents hanging in the Great Hall, simultaneously collapsing into an armchair across from his parent's portrait while moving the receiver up to his ear.

"Lucius, how are you?" he asked in the voice of the Bat. There was a moment of silence on the other end but Bruce could tell by the sound of the man's breathing that the news had put Lucius somewhat out of sorts. Long accustomed to the airy voice of the playboy, Bruce's sudden, chilling new tone wasn't helping calm Lucius' nerves.

"Bruce? Or should I say Batman?" Lucius chuckled nervously. "Today has been… interesting to say the least. Can you give me something to tell the employees and the shareholders? People are a little worried."

"Lucius, are you sitting down?" Bruce asked, wincing as he could picture the enormous strain his long-time friend was suddenly undergoing.

"I'm at my desk." Lucius responded. Bruce could almost feel the dawn of realization flood through his friend's mind. "It's true, isn't it?" Lucius asked in a hushed whisper.

"I wish I could lie and tell you things weren't as they appear," Bruce admitted. "But in this case, Circe was dead-on."

"May I ask why?" Lucius groaned. "Why would you put yourself through all of this?"

"Thomas and Martha Wayne," Bruce responded in a monotone that made Lucius wince on the other end of the line. "I made a vow to honor their memory the night they died."

"A little extreme, don't you think?" Lucius retorted, a sense of gallow's humor pervading through his tone.

Bruce decided to change the subject. "Lucius, do me a favor while we're on the phone. Access the Level 5 security screen on your computer."

He heard the sounds of the keyboard being activated and the response. "I'm in."

"Type Project Phoenix for the user name, 91939 for the passcode." Bruce instructed.

The line remained silent for a few seconds, then Bruce heard a low whistle of amazement from the other man. "Bruce, is this what I think it is?"

"The documents should be pretty easy to follow," Bruce allowed, "But I'll give you the abbreviated version so that you know my desires. You're being appointed interim Chairman of Wayne Enterprises. 95 of my holdings are being placed in a charitable trust as we speak. My estate lawyer, Harry Carson, will be calling you in a few minutes. You'll get to use your discretion of course, but the trust is intended for the benefit of Gotham's poor, sick, hungry… you get the idea. The other five percent will pay dividends into a blind trust that will pay for my…expenses. There's a press release that I've already signed which explains my version of things. Hopefully it will help but you're obviously going to be the focus of attention for awhile. The press will obviously have a field day for a year or two, but after that, things will hopefully return to a dull roar."

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. "What are you going to do with the Manor?" Lucius asked. "It's been in your family for five generations."

"Assuming it's still standing tomorrow, along with Dr. Leslie Tompkins, you'll be appointed as the Trustee for an orphanage to be established here at the Manor. Alfred may or may not stay on to help. He's taken care of me long enough as it is. It's time for him to do something with a little more…future."

Bruce's tone was almost morose with regret when he mentioned Alfred's name. Lucius caught it. "We're never going to speak again, are we?"

"I doubt it." Bruce admitted, pulling the cowl back over his eyes. "After today, Bruce Wayne as you knew him will cease to exist. You've always been a good friend, Lucius. I'm sorry to have to surprise you like this, but the exigencies of the position sometimes require additional…responsibilities."

"That they do." Lucius chuckled. "Good luck, Bruce." The line went dead.

Batman placed the phone on the coffee table, then rose out of the chair. He approached his parent's portrait with grim determination and produced a knife-edge batarang from his belt. Alfred walked into the room and gasped when he saw the result of the action: an empty frame above the mantle. Batman was just finishing tying a small piece of jump-line around the rolled-up portrait when Alfred cleared his throat to signify his presence.

"There is a …gentleman here to see Batman, sir." Alfred announced. "He said something about a security detail as well as some moving vans."

"Show him into the observatory, Alfred." Batman replied.

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Thirty minutes later a large contingent of television stations equipped with satellite relay systems had established a camp in front of the Manor's iron gates. Curious onlookers had also started to congregate, peering through slots in the ironworks or climbing onto their friend's shoulders for a better view. Two younger men had already been pushed off the stone parapets on either side of the gates by the security guards that had appeared out of nowhere. Despite their presence, Alfred was worried that a mob mentality would soon overwhelm the guards unless lethal force was authorized.

From his vantage point in the study, Alfred guessed that there were at least 500 people outside the grounds already and that number would probably double within the hour. The sound of footfalls interrupted his observations as Batman escorted the security manager out the front door. He motioned for Alfred to remain in the study as they passed, then returned a minute after the door had closed with a bang.

"Sorry for the interruption..." Batman began.

"What are your plans, Master Bruce?" Alfred inquired, cutting him off.

"There isn't going to be much need for that… appellation any more, is there?" Batman muttered darkly, trying to find the right term.

"So you intend to be Batman on a full-time basis, I take it?" Alfred replied coldly. "Forgive my impertinence but I've never addressed you as Batman in the past nor do I intend to do so in the future. You don't get to stop being the son of Thomas and Martha simply because your identity has been exposed."

Batman digested the information, then dismissed the thought with a curt shrug. "We don't have a lot of time to worry about that. I'm assuming by nightfall, most of the gangs in Gotham will manage to make their way out here looking for me. I don't intend to be here but I don't want any innocent bystanders getting hurt. I just gave that man the access codes for the perimeter defense and fire suppression systems. He'll coordinate things from the computer station in the stables until we're gone. His people have already established a perimeter outside. I'm hoping their presence will serve as an interim deterrent. Some moving vans and transports should arrive soon at the stable entrance. They're going to transport most of the cars and furniture to a warehouse for interim storage. I don't think the press knows about that entrance. There's a good chance we can donate most of it to orphanages around Gotham. Hopefully the Manor will still be standing in the morning to move the rest. In the interim, it would be a great help if you can put a sheet of paper or something to mark the most valuable things. I'll let you handle it."

"What happens if the mob breaks in while we're packing?" Alfred interrupted.

"I honestly have no idea. They'll probably burn it to the ground like a Salem witch trial if they're given a chance. If they do, the Wayne Foundation can rebuild an orphanage later on this site. I think my parents would have liked that."

Alfred nodded in approval at the plan, then detected a flaw. "You're not allowing the guards use of the Cave computers?" Alfred asked, eyebrow raised in surprise.

"In a few hours, the Cave will self-destruct." Batman replied. "I don't want to take the chance that if somebody finds it in the future it could be turned into some kind of amusement park."

"What about the equipment? The Batmobiles?" Alfred asked with concern. "The museum?"

"I've already backed up all of my files on the Watchtower mainframe." Batman replied dryly. "The rest is replaceable."

"Won't the Manor collapse into the hole you're going to create if you implode the Cave?" Alfred asked dubiously.

"I'm assuming 100 feet of granite will hold." Batman replied with a shrug. "If not, the Manor will help fill the hole."

"What about Barbara and Tim? Have you thought about them? Your son is also going to have to face a number of questions over in Bludhaven. After all, your adoption of Dick Grayson is a matter of public record. It won't be hard for people to draw a line between him and the original Robin."

"Barbara and Tim have no connection to Bruce Wayne. We'll decide later whether they attempt to carry on the mission here in Gotham. In the meantime, they're in no immediate danger." Bruce took a deep breath. "As for Dick, he's my next call. I'm hoping he'll join the League on a full-time basis. His career in Bludhaven is over."

"As usual, Batman has thought of everything." Alfred observed dryly. "I'm assuming you've developed a contingency plan for me as well?"

"There's a chalet in Switzerland in your name as well as a numbered account with twenty million dollars already in it." Batman replied, reaching behind his desk. He handed over a card inscribed with the account information as well as a copy of the deed for the Swiss estate. "The chalet is yours to do with as you please. For your safety, I'd prefer you that you and Leslie transport to the Watchtower with me. If you prefer, stay at Leslie's house tonight, help her pack, then come to the Watchtower first thing in the morning. If the press finds either of you, you don't have enough plausible deniability to say that you didn't know of my… nighttime activities. Worse than the press, you'll be a target for all of my enemies. If you're not out of Gotham by the morning, the two of you will be dead."

"With all due respect, I have no desire to be a prisoner of circumstance for the rest of my life." Alfred protested.

Batman laid a hand sympathetically on the man's shoulder. "Humor me, Alfred, this one last time. Come to the Watchtower for a few days until another news story supplants this one in the headlines. The public has a pretty short attention span. Soon they'll worry about something else. After that you're free to travel the world or do anything else you would like. Please don't force me to take…protective measures to ensure your safety."

"You wouldn't?" Alfred whispered furiously, emphatically poking the larger man in the chest to show his determination.

"I can and I will." Batman replied with a snarl. He leaned in to intimidate the smaller man in a manner similar to the way Batman had intimidated all of Gotham's thugs for the past decade. Realizing he'd overstepped his bounds, he dropped his head in resignation. "Please, Alfred. Do me this one last favor…"

Alfred weighed the gravity of the Dark Knight's expression for a few moments. Realizing any further dispute was pointless, he backed down. "Give me a few minutes to pack some things, then I'll start prioritizing the furniture."

"Don't take anything bigger than I can put on the transporter or in the Batwing," the cowled figure growled. "We don't have big closets on the Watchtower."

"I'll meet you in the Cave in a few moments." The butler replied loftily, then spun on his heels to head upstairs.

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During the initial improvements to the Cave, Batman had installed a number of security devices including motion, pressure and infra-red sensors, all of which were keyed into the Cray mainframe which served as the Cave's primary operating system. Unable to hire a security firm to aid with the installation, he'd performed most of the work himself, occasionally enlisting Alfred or the Bat-family members to help with the odd job. For defense, Batman initially installed a number of non-lethal devices including grappling nets as well as low-voltage taser systems designed to stun trespassers. He'd even researched habits of the Cave's original denizens, designing a batarang which emitted an ultra-sonic frequency in the same range as their favorite food groups: moths. Even his League teammates were shocked when Batman had enlisted the help of the bats in the Cave to attack the Thanagarians.

As Gotham's criminals became more powerful and more sophisticated, Batman realized he needed a fail-safe to back-up all of the non-lethal systems. His solution was simple yet elegant: 1,000 pounds of C-4 plastique explosive pre-set in strategic locations throughout the Cave. Only a fail-safe code delivered directly to the mainframe or a back-up signal activated from his belt could activate the fail-safe.

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In the Manor, Batman turned and tucked his parent's portrait under his arm. He pulled open the glass case then moved the clock hands to 10:47, opening the door behind the grandfather clock. It took a few moments to navigate the dark passage downstairs then he arrived at the computer station. Settling into his chair, he activated the Cray mainframe with a simple voice command. The time on the monitor indicated it was already 5:30 in the evening, about 45 minutes away from EET (End of Evening Twilight) where human eyes could no longer see without assistance. It was also the most likely moment for his enemies to initiate an attack.

His hands flew over the keyboard at lightning speed, pulling up a contingency plan he'd developed years before in case this event ever occurred. The print-out confirmed he'd followed his protocol so far, then he picked up the hot-line when it buzzed next to him.

"Dick."

"How did you know it was me?" Dick chortled. "There are others who have this number, you know."

"Lucky guess. See the news?"

"Yeah, hard to miss. Captain of my squad called me into his office at lunch, then asked me if I wanted to tell him anything. He had 'The Look', you know?

"I know." Batman replied, wincing as he imagined the discomfort Dick must have felt.

"Anyway, he turned on the news," Dick continued, "and there was Circe, babbling on about who you were. Captain was nice enough to escort me to the door before it got out, told me to thank Nightwing for looking after Bludhaven for the past few years, _then_ told me to take a few sick days, no questions asked."

"The press will probably track you down within the hour," Batman replied. "Want a pickup from a 'Wing or straight transport to the Watchtower?"

"I'll just meet you at the Tower'." Dick muttered. "I'll cover my tracks here then call J'onn for transport."

"See you there." Bruce replied, then thought better before he hung up. "Hey, Dick."

"Yeah?"

"Sorry…about all this."

"It was inevitable." Dick replied cheerily. "We had a good run while it lasted. Besides, Bludhaven was getting on my nerves...the weather sucked."

The phone clicked off in Batman's ear. Wearily, he sat back in his chair then raised the list to inspect the next item on the agenda. He could feel a kink of tension developing in his neck. Groaning with discomfort, he started lolling his head from side to side to relieve the stress. Suddenly, a pair of hands appeared around his neck. Instinctively, he reached behind him, twisting one of the attacker's wrists in order to gain leverage when Diana shouted,"Bruce, it's me!"

"Diana!" he stammered in surprise. Releasing his wrist lock, he scrambled out of his chair. "How did you get in here?"

"YOU gave me the access code when I lived here a year ago..." She replied angrily. Cradling her wrist, she winced in amazement that a man with no extraphysical powers had managed to cause such pain, temporary or not. "Remember, after you kamikazed the first Watchtower?"

He looked at her warily. "Must have forgotten to change the codes."

"Doesn't sound like the Batman I know." She retorted. "Why did you try to break my arm?"

"Thought you were an intruder." He replied defensively. "In case you hadn't noticed, there's a lynch mob waiting outside."

"I HAD noticed." She replied with a frown. "I… I should say WE, are here to help."

"Who is WE?" he asked doubtfully.

Lantern and Superman strode out of the darkness of the Cave and revealed themselves under a floodlight. "What can we do to help?" John Stewart asked.

"Can your ring dig a trench through one hundred feet of granite then lift the Manor and the Cave out of the trench?"

"How long do I have?" Lantern replied, mentally calculating the power such an operation would require.

"Hour, maybe less."

"No way." John replied. "That is, not if you want it intact."

"It doesn't do me much good in pieces now, does it?" Batman replied testily.

"Now hold on, Batman." Superman interrupted. "We're just trying to help."

"Then help me by getting out of my way." Batman replied. "I'm going to blow up the Cave, so unless you want to help Alfred catalog the furniture and cars upstairs, then you're no good to me."

"What kind of cars?" John and Superman asked simultaneously.

"Classics," Batman replied with a dismissive wave. "Take your pick. I won't be needing them." He stole a glance at Superman for a moment. "It would look kind of odd though if Lois saw you driving a 57 Bentley Roadster around Metropolis on a reporter's salary."

"How did you know that's the one I wanted?" Superman asked in surprise.

"Every farm boy's dream to drive a car like that." Batman observed wryly.

"I'll probably put it in my parent's barn or the Fortress." Superman admitted sheepishly. He looked at Lantern, who answered him with an embarrassed shurg, then the two men then flew up the stairs to the Manor.

Diana watched them go with a smile appearing in the corner of her mouth. "You're giving your teammates your car collection?"

"Do you want one?" Batman replied, settling back into the chair while scanning his list. "There's an 61' Mercedes convertible that I always thought suited you."

"That's very kind," She replied dryly. "But in case you hadn't notice, I don't have many driving needs."

"Batmobile, Batwing?"

"Stop it Bruce. You're stalling."

He paused, then a hollow laugh that felt like fingernails on the chalkboard to Diana's ears escaped his mouth. "I guess I am. Computer, confirm auto-destruct sequence for the Cave."

"Confirmed," the mechanical voice crackled back. "Time to auto-destruct?"

"Two hours." Batman replied wearily, then spun in his chair to face Diana. "Happy?"

"I've watched your whole world collapse around you today," Diana replied, sorrow etched on her face. "I don't think happy is the word I'd choose."

"Let's get out of here," he muttered, rising from the chair. "Alfred probably needs some help upstairs." He started trudging up the steps to the Manor, Diana at his side. He almost recoiled with shock when she slipped her hand into his. Pausing at a step, he managed to give hers a little squeeze before keying the door to open the Manor. Pausing to take one last sentimental look at the Cave, Diana blurted, "I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"Causing all of this."

"I was Batman before we met, Princess." He noted dryly. "You don't get to take the blame for that."

"I meant that I'm sorry Circe's price was so high." He looked at her sharply, as if stung, but Diana quickly continued before he could react. "Zatanna told me after you left the Watchtower. You shouldn't have done it…the price was too high."

"The important thing is you're safe," he replied with a weary shrug, then eased her through the door leading to the Manor.

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	3. House of Usher

Author's Note: Though my disclaimer at the beginning of this story cited this ficlet as a alternate universe/ending for the JLU cartoon, I realized in Chapters 1 and 2 that I'd mixed some continuity between the animated and comic worlds. Lucius Fox, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and Dick Grayson's life in Bludhaven are comic origin while the rest of the story is cartoon origin. Writer's privilege allows me to mix and match as I please, however I wanted to admit the inconsistency sooner rather than later. HB   
**Chapter 3 – Usher**

Diana and Batman emerged from the Cave and immediately found Alfred scurrying through the Great hall. He was simultaneously hen-pecking a duo of burly movers to exercise greater care as they moved an antique buffet table through the Great Hall while wrapping a Ming Dynasty porcelain vase in bubble wrap. Uncomfortable carrying such a heavy load but more irritated that an English butler was nipping at their heels like a Scottish Terrier, the men's jaws dropped in shock when Wonder Woman and Batman emerged from behind the grandfather clock. Shocked by the sudden appearance of the two superheroes from the passageway, the movers dropped the table on cue. Only Diana's quick reaction to prop up the table saved the men from crushing their toes.

"Be careful with that," Diana instructed grimly, "It's probably older than the two of you combined." Alfred's head swiveled in her direction, grateful somebody else appreciated the fragility of the antiques. Diana quickly set about instructing the men how to best pick up the table. Used to constant oversight from their foreman, Diana's officious tone immediately resonated with the two men. They quickly snapped to attention, re-established their grips, then carried the table past the two superheroes, slack-jawed that the rumors about the identity of the homeowner turned out to be true.

Batman's eyes squinted darkly behind the cowl, surveying the swath of movers preparing the furniture for storage. His eyes settled on one of the men surreptitiously hiding in the shadows while he removed a gilded candle sconce from the wall. The man had just secured the piece inside his jacket when a dark shadow loomed behind him. The mover's eyes suddenly went white with fear, however Batman only held out a gauntlet, demanding its return. The man hesitated, formulating a number of excuses before he finally admitted his intentions. "Thought I'd sell it on E-bay." He whispered meekly. "It might pay for my ten-year old's braces."

Batman dropped the guantlet, then leaned forward until the beak of his cowl was almost touching the man's nose, then menacingly growled, "Keep it, but no more looting. In fact, I'm putting you in charge of the 'no looting committee.' If I find anything else missing from the Manor, I'll find you. You don't want me to have to come find you, do you?"

The man quietly shook his head in fright, then scurried down the hallway to resume moving a chair strapped to a dolly.

Satisfied that the work was progressing as well as could be expected, Batman spun on his heels then set off out the back door, heading to the stables. Diana matched his stride, wondering where he was going, then nodded with understanding when they arrived at his intended destination. They started throwing open the stable doors to release the half dozen Arabians he'd maintained at the Manor for appearances sake, most of which were offspring of the original horses his mother had insisted his father buy when Bruce was a child.

The horses needed no encouragement and all ran for the large pasture south of the estate, farthest away from the prying eyes of the press.

"Will they be safe?" Diana wondered aloud.

"Should be," Batman replied with an indifferent shrug, "There's a groomsman who comes by every morning to take care of them." Not pausing to watch the horses, he strode away without another word. Exasperated that he could find no beauty watching the majestic animals gallop out to the pasture, Diana took a moment to admire the horses enjoy their romp before quietly trudging after him.

She followed him to the garage and found Lantern and Superman impatiently waiting next to their new cars. A car carrier had blocked thegarage door, leaving the two superheroes with no choice but to either punch a large hole in the roof (initially an attractive option) or to wait quietly while the valets loaded the cars onto the carrier. Lantern and Superman had decided on a third alternative, loading the cars onto the carrier themselves. The two were waiting for the driver to secure the safety straps and chains which secured the cars onto the platform. Batman had disappeared into the recesses of the garage. With nothing to occupy her time, Diana elected to wait with her teammates, idly staring as the last of the straps were secured.

As Batman had predicted, Superman had indeed opted for the 57' Bentley. Lantern had chosen a 64' 427 Shelby Cobra. Both men were leaning against their new cars, grinning from ear to ear with pride over their newly prized possessions.

"You're not really going to take those cars, are you?" Diana asked in disbelief.

Both men gave an embarrassed shrug but had no response. Ignoring their silent rebuff, Diana decided to try a different tack, approaching Superman directly so that he couldn't ignore her any longer.

"I never took you for much of a car enthusiast." She noted, prodding him to explain his irrational behavior.

Realizing that she wasn't going to give up on the matter so easily, Superman finally returned her gaze. "Cars like these are more works of art than transportation. When I was a kid growing up in Kansas, I used to help my dad fix our pickups. I probably got a bit of the grease monkey syndrome back then. When I was seven, my parents took me to see some relatives in Kansas City. Saw a convertible Cadillac for the first time in my life. Until then, I didn't even know people could own cars that couldn't haul farm equipment. Since then, I guess a part of me has always wanted to own something like this."

Diana nodded with newfound appreciation, then listened with rapt attention when Lantern stepped over to tell his side of the story. "My Dad used to work for Ford Motors on their assembly lines back in Detroit. He used to rave about the team that built these Cobras. They pulled every skilled mechanic off the lines for six months to put 550 of these cars together, then as soon as they perfected the process, they broke up the team. My Dad probably built the transmission on this one." He noted proudly.

The three of them watched the car carrier back away from the driveway, slowly rumbling down the winding lane which connected the rear half of the Manor with the highway leading back to Gotham. Shielded by the pastures and forests on the southern part of the Wayne Estate, none of the reporters stationed outside the front gates had yet discovered the back entrance.

Batman materialized out of nowhere, startling the three of them. Regaining his composure, John Stewart decided to offer his help one last time before departing.

"You sure we can't stay and help do something else besides stealing your cars?"

Batman stole a quick look at the remaining two cars in the driveway, then shrugged indifferently. "Alfred's got the movers loading up the last of the important furniture. As far as the cars go, I'm glad they're going to people who appreciate them."

"I'm curious, why did you own so many?" Diana asked with a probing stare.

"My Dad was a collector. I was going to sell the collection but when I decided to take on… the mission, I had to have something on which to base the designs of the Batmobiles," He replied with a wry grin. "In fact, I copied my first design of the Batmobile on a souped up version of the Cobra."

The three of them did a double-take, then Lantern exclaimed "I thought I recognized that car from somewhere," with a laugh.

Sensing he'd provided his teammates with an insider's glimpse into his history, Batman suddenly stiffened and stalked back into the garage, afraid of displaying any more sentimentality. "Enjoy the cars," he called over his shoulder.

The three Leaguers looked at each other, puzzled why Batman would insist on ruining such an intimate moment, then Superman heaved the Bentley over his head with one motion before clucking, "Same old Bats."

Lantern and Diana watched him disappear into the twilight of the evening, then Diana shook her head forlornly as Lantern formed an emerald bubble around himself and his newly prized possession. "I don't think he's going to be the same. Do you, John?"

"Give him credit, Diana. He's survived worse than this. " John replied stoically, then sailed up into the darkening sky.

"But will _he_?" Diana asked the disappearing emerald bubble. "Will _he_?" she whispered again before teleporting back to the Watchtower.

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His clock was showing less than thirty minutes before the scheduled implosion for the Cave when he finally located Alfred in the attic. The valet was furiously sorting through a set of trunks filled with generations of Wayne family memorabilia, including birth certificates, pictures and even a family bible that had belonged to Bruce's great-grandmother.

"What are you doing with those?" Batman asked grimly. "There are more valuable things still waiting to be packed away in the China cabinet."

"Those 'things' downstairs may have more monetary value, but I assure you that your family history is the most valuable thing in your possession." Alfred replied testily. "You should take care to remember that in the coming days."

Batman shook his head, thinking that his surrogate father was undertaking a lost cause. "Alfred, you have to let go. These 'things' won't aid the Wayne family's standing in Gotham. The damage is irreparable."

Alfred paused re-packing for a moment, then started again. "If my remaining debt to your parents is to become the archivist for the Wayne family history, then it's a responsibility I accept with great pride." He finished packing the last of the boxes then nodded at the largest one on the floor. "Be so good as to carry that one down for me."

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Fifteen minutes prior to the Cave's implosion, Batman triggered an alarm through the Manor. Supervisors ushered the remaining movers out, taking great care to ensure the headcount was accurate before giving the all-clear sign to the foreman. The movers were massed in front of the throng of on-lookers and media outlets, all of which were bathing the Manor with their high-powered klieg lights.

Batman ushered Alfred out the back, loaded him and the boxes he valued so highly into a moving van, then casually strolled around the grounds one final time, stopping only when he arrived in front of the packed crowd at the main gate. The crowd nervously roared with excitement at his sudden appearance, alternating their gazes between the Dark Knight and the security detail's removal of more trespassers from the parapets.

Reporters shouted questions over the din, with topics ranging from his motivation to become Batman to inquiries regarding his sexual inclinations, some of which carried overtones and hints of both pedophilia or homosexuality. Batman pointedly ignored all of them, instead staring at the countdown displayed on the LED on his wrist.

The first sounds of the implosion rumbled through the ground, sending vibrations through the knees of the throng of onlookers. The vibrations increased in intensity by the second, unsettling the crowd. A crack suddenly appeared in the face of the Manor, signifying that some of the steel and masonry supports at the foundation were under increasing strain.

Later, onlookers would remember that the entire collapse of the Manor into the hole beneath it started with almost no sound at all. Whatever the reason for the silence of the implosion, the crowd roar grew deafening as they witnessed the center of the mansion slowly sink into the widening crevice beneath it. Without the support of the center, the gothic towers framing the north and south wings collapsed into the hole. The rest folding neatly on top of the pile of rubble before the entire mass disappeared further into the abyss.

Batman watched the entire process unfold with a stoic gaze, never turning his back to face the crowd. When the entire Manor had collapsed into the hole, he turned to the crowd, whispered "House of Usher", which a Fox News channel boom microphone picked up, then raised a grapple gun over his head. He fired a line a hundred meters into the night sky, secured the line to his belt, then the crowd roared with amazement as a Batwing roared overhead, plucking him neatly from the driveway. Cameras captured the footage of his cape trailing behind him as the Dark Knight disappeared over the skyline of Gotham City.

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Nightwing, Zatanna and Diana were waiting as a group at the hangar when the Batwing taxied into position on the floor. Following the hangar crews instructions with decided indifference, Batman shut down the engines in a parking spot usually reserved for Javelin 8's. The chief technician coordinating the ground crew opened his mouth to protest the Batwing's parking spot, then thought better of it when he spied the grim expression of the pilot emerging from the canopy.

Batman nodded to the three of them when the doors whooshed open, but didn't break stride as he made his way into the recesses of the Watchtower.

"You didn't tell me the 'Wing was space capable." Diana teased with a good-natured grin, dropping into stride next to him.

"If I told you all of my secrets I'd be out of a job." He replied with a smirk, never breaking stride. Nightwing and Zatanna rolled their eyes at each other behind the dysfunctional duo, exchanging smiles before running into the suddenly immobile wall of Batman's cape.

Batman turned and glared at the two of them. "Don't you have someplace to be?"

"We're here to help debrief you." Nightwing replied cheerily. "Nice demolition job on the Cave, by the way. I thought torching my warehouse was a bit melodramatic but you…you take the cake!" His smile faded to a frown when Batman leaned in.

"I'll talk to you in an hour," Dick's adopted father intoned. "There should be an extra room for you on Deck 3. I'll come find you. As for you," he started, turning his gaze upon Zatanna, "Your help was invaluable. But there's nothing left for you to help with here. Go home. We'll call you for your next mission."

Zatanna's eyes narrowed sharply, stung that she was being dismissed so casually by a long-term friend. "If it's all the same to you, since I am an associate member, I think I'll hang around for a few more days. My show doesn't start again until next week at Caesar's Palace."

Batman was about to reply when Nightwing stepped between the two of them to cut off any further argument. Looping an arm through Zatanna's, he escorted her down the hallway in the opposite direction. "Did you say Vegas? Have I got a story to tell. About a year back, Roy and I were on the tail of this one mafioso…"

Diana watched the two retreat with a bemused expression, then opened her mouth in consternation to protest Batman had silently left her standing alone in the corridor. She flew after him to catch up, then settled back to matching his forced-march stride down the corridor. "Is the Inner Council ready?" he inquired, still all business.

"Superman should be here in a few minutes. Everyone else is already waiting." She answeredautomatically, then cocked an eyebrow at him. "You don't treat ex-girlfriends very nicely."

"What are you talking about?"

"Zatanna. I got the impression that the two of you used to be…an item." She observed, searching his expression for any sign whether her instincts were correct.

"Her father taught me every escape trick I know." Batman replied, nonplussed by her implication.

"What about her?" Diana pressed, "Did she teach you any tricks?"

"That was a long time ago." He replied, arriving at the Inner Council chambers. Keying his access code (restricted to the original seven members, although Shayera Hol was still absent without leave), he turned and faced her before the doors swung open. "We were just kids pretending we knew what we were doing. You don't have to be jealous."

"I'm not jealous," she sputtered angrily, then her face turned red with embarrassment as Lantern, J'onn and Flash turned to see who was joining the conference. "Just curious."

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Superman joined the Inner Council a few minutes later. Six of the chairs were now occupied, signifying the meeting was ready to begin. The fact that the seventh chair was unoccupied was a topic they studiously neglected to discuss, even in smaller circles.

"I presume you called this meeting," Superman nodded at Batman, "to discuss formulating the League's public stance towards the announcement of your identity?"

Batman frowned slightly behind the cowl. "With the exception of how our sources of funding are going to change, there's nothing to discuss on that matter."

"Shouldn't we make some kind of public announcement of support or something?" Flash asked dubiously.

"No thanks," Batman replied. "I'd rather get to the matter at hand. As of today, I won't be able to creatively finance any new operations. That means no more Watchtowers…"

"Meaning you won't turn this one into another ballistic missile?" Lantern interjected.

Batman glared at him then continued. "…no more Javelin replacements. Equipment funding will be limited to the dividends I'll receive on the remaining five percent I hold in Wayne Enterprises. I'm guessing the SEC might be conducting an investigation into my past accounting nuances in the interim…"

"Didn't the funds you took for our activities actually constitute embezzlement?" Superman interjected with a smile.

Batman gave him 'the look', signifying that he still carried a piece of kryptonite in his utility belt and wasn't afraid to produce it, then continued, "…which means the rest of my assets may be frozen for a year or two."

Flash whistled with amazement when he realized the damage Circe's announcement had cost the League. "So I'm guessing no more Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee in the commissary? What else are we going to have to give up?"

"What I'm telling you is that the League should start to review other…alternative means of procuring materials and funding." Batman finished.

The other Leaguers thought about his implication, then J'onn raised the question that nobody else wanted to touch with a ten-foot pole. "Are you saying we should think about procuring materials by force? Stealing what we require?"

"That would make us like the Justice Lords!" Superman stated vehemently. "I won't have any part of that!"

"I'm not telling the Council how to procure things." Batman replied pointedly. "I'm just telling the five of you that you may as well view me to be the rich, old uncle who blew his inheritance and now has to sleep in the basement."

Diana looked at him, carefully measuring his message, then decided to pursue a topic of conversation with him that he'd managed to avoid thus far. "So what are your plans? Relocate to a secret hideout in the Himalayas?"

"Other than what Alfred packed for me in the Batwing and my uniform, I don't have a single remaining asset to my name." He replied grimly. "In the short run, I'd like to opt out of any mission assignments which require a public appearance. I'd probably attract a crowd of bystanders like an Elvis-sighting, most of whom would end up dead or injured because they got in the way of some bad guy trying to get my autograph."

J'onn looked at him sympathetically. "I could use some assistance upgrading the security and engineering systems. There have been a few bugs the engineering staff hasn't been able to work out on their own."

"Between that and full-time monitor duty, I'll find a way to keep busy." Batman replied with a nod.

The rest of the team gasped in surprise. "You actually want full-time monitor duty?" Lantern asked in amazement.

"What else is there to do?" Batman replied with a derisive snort. "Watch television in the lounge while you demi-gods round up the latest escapees from Bell Reeve?"

"How about you train the League in martial arts?" Diana suggested. "Speaking only for myself, I know there are certain martial arts, capoeira, jujistsu and others, that I would really like to learn."

"I'm not an expert at those." Batman muttered, trying to squirm out of the idea.

The League collectively burst out in laughter. Knowing him as they did, if there was a martial art invented, Batman would train himself to the brink of exhaustion until he'd mastered the technique. He scowled at the group, not enjoying the fact that they were getting a laugh at his expense.

"Meeting adjourned." He mumbled, then retreated from the room.

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	4. Hiding in Plain Sight

Author's Note: Lois's prior knowledge of Bruce's identity comes from World's Finest. Thanks to AP for the beta.

Talzin, JurzeeGirl, Black 201, Godddess, Darkcloud, Chris Bennett- Thanks for your kind feedback.

NomadicOne – Thank you for the very kind thoughts and for taking the time to talk about the whole range of the stories I've written. Its very cool to have a fan who likes "the voice" of a fic writer.

Rurouni Tyriel – I don't know where you find the time to review my stuff while you're writing the great stuff on your end, but thank you. Yes, the pedophile joke was done just for that reason.

**Chapter 4 – Hiding in Plain Sight**

Batman found Nightwing in the commissary chatting with Zatanna. His ward and the mage had known each other peripherally for years, having exchanged occasional pleasantries while dealing with some of Batman's deadliest enemies, but had never had the time to sit down and chat.

As usual, Dick was delivering the ending to a story with a dramatic flourish. Zatanna seemed mesmerized by the younger man, despite their difference in age. Pausing at the entrance, Batman's eyes flashed with surprise when he recognized some of the nonverbal cues of a woman's interest: the flush of color in their cheeks, the welcoming body language, an occasional touch lingering for an extra moment.

His immediate thought was to throw a bucket of cold water on the two of them, then realized that given the rough day both of them had been through, they'd earned the right to flirt. Sinking into the shadows of the corridor, he quickly swept the rest of the room to determine who else was there. Sitting two tables over, only Black Canary and Supergirl were near enough to pick up the conversation. Batman blinked in surprise when he caught Kara staring at Nightwing with a dreamy expression that could only be characterized as sheer lust.

Black Canary spied him at the entrance. Following his gaze back to Kara, Dinah Lance gently nudged the younger Argonian with her knee; a warning that she'd stared too long at the muscular young man from Bludhaven.

Oblivious to Kara's stares, Nightwing was regaling Zatanna with a story about growing up in the Manor. It seemed to be the primary topic of all the superheroes present in the Watchtower. Every major news outlet was replaying the footage of the Manor's implosion as their lead story. Knowing the television audience would eventually get bored with the replays, the channels had rushed a number of supposed superhero experts (basically talking heads filling dead air) in front of the cameras to discuss how Bruce Wayne could have managed such a brilliant deception for so many years.

Batman grabbed a cup of coffee then sat down at an empty table. He gazed at a monitor above him displaying the footage of the implosion interspersed with his dramatic departure. He hadn't had time to witness the aftermath of the implosion and was gratified to learn the crowd had melted away as the evening wore on. The stations would occasionally cut to air live footage of the abyss from their helicopters, but given the late hour and the lack of a full moon, it was too dark to see anything meaningful in the wreckage.

Black Canary and Supergirl approached him hesitantly. They stood a few meters away, deliberating on their approach before Dinah Lance decided to say what was on her mind.

"Bruce, we just wanted to tell you how sorry we are about what happened." She murmured, "It took a lot of courage to give all that up to protect a teammate."

He nodded in appreciation and searched for something meaningful to say. Finding nothing, he blurted out, "Not Bruce. Batman here on the Watchtower," in a tone much harsher than he intended.

The two women recoiled, stung by the severity of his rebuke. "Whatever you say, Batman," Kara dripped sarcastically, then the two of them scurried back to their table. Black Canary shot the petite blonde a look of surprise that she'd back-talked the Dark Knight, but Kara just shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "Kara," Dinah whispered once they sat back down, "Be careful. He carries a piece of kryptonite in his utility belt."

The teenager paled. "Oh, I didn't think about that."

Studiously avoiding the two women, Batman focused his attention back on the monitors, then heard the rustle of chairs shifting as Zatanna and Nightwing wearily sat down at his table a moment later. "_That_ could have been handled better," Dick remarked gravely. Zatanna nodded her head in agreement.

"Thanks for your opinion," Batman snapped in reply. "Shouldn't you be unpacking?"

Nightwing weighed a number of responses, most of which involved creative ways for his adopted father to render himself anally with a batarang, then thought better of it. Instead, he snapped into the tightest military-style salute he could manage, barked, "Yes, Sir! Very good, Sir! Right away, Sir!" then spun on his heels, heading for the door with an exaggerated goose-step.

Zatanna watched Nightwing insolently retreat into the corridor, then shook her head at the Dark Knight. "You know something, _Bruce_? Sometimes I don't know whether to hug you or slap you."

He slowly raised himself to his full height from the chair. Looking down at her, her glowered at Zatanna for a moment before stalking off down the corridor. She watched him leave with a pang of regret, noting that he'd been through an event which most of the League dreaded more than their own deaths. She heaved a sympathetic sigh, wearily sinking back into her chair to finish her coffee when Supergirl and Black Canary surprised her by sliding into the chairs across the table.

Zatanna looked at Black Canary expectantly, however the older woman just rolled her eyes and nodded her head at the younger blonde seated next to her. "Go ahead, Kara." Dinah prodded gently.

"Well, I saw you sitting there with Nightwing and uh… see, well, ummm, I was wondering if you two are dating or anything…" Kara's voice trailed off lamely.

"He's gorgeous," Zatanna admitted with a sigh. "But he's too young for me. I don't want to get a reputation as the League's cradle robber. Want me to set you two up?"

"Please."

"I'll see what I can do."

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Batman had just hung up his cape and cowl on the hook he'd installed on the back of the door in his room, then collapsed onto his bed with a tired groan. He rolled over onto his back then deftly released the mechanism that locked his belt in place. Laying on the bed, he debated about whether he should expend the energy to hang it next to the cowl or just leave it on the floor. The floor was looking increasingly like the more attractive option when Diana's voice floated out from the chair shrouded in the darkened corner of the room. "Want me to hang that up?"

"How did you get in here?"

"If I told you all of my secrets, I'd be out of a job." She parroted.

"Touche."

She rose up from the chair, emerging into the ambient light reflected off the Western Pacific Ocean. "Do you ever turn on the lights?"

"Energy conservation." He replied automatically. He pushed himself up until he was seated on the edge of the bed. Raising an eyebrow as she slipped the gauntlets off his hands, he turned to face her straight on. "Auditioning for Alfred's job? Of course you realize he's scheduled to arrive in the morning. He might get upset to find he's been replaced."

Deciding she was in the mood to flirt, Diana strode forward until she was standing between his legs. "How much does the job pay?" she teased, then pushed him backwards onto the bed. He was puzzled as to her intent, then gratified when she turned around and wormed his right boot off his foot.

"I can't afford much." He admitted,propping his head onto a pillow. "Alfred's got the deep pockets now."

"Alfred deserves every penny you've given him," Diana observed as she pried off his left boot, "But the League knows you've contributed more than just the money you paid to have the Watchtowers built."

"Now that I'm destitute, I'm afraid I'm going to prove more of a burden to the League than they realize." He replied sharply, then pulled his shirt off over his head.

Diana's eyes narrowed sharply. Exhaling sharply, she settled down on the bed, seated inches away from his prone form. "Today you gave up everything you've worked so hard to protect in order to win my freedom. I couldn't care less what the rest of the League thinks. As far as I'm concerned, you're the richest, most generous man I've ever, or will ever, meet."

"I was just trying to protect a teammate," he groused, yawning at the same time as his exhausted body had been awake for over two days without sleep.

"Don't make it less than it was, Bruce," she whispered, stroking the hair matted down from the cowl away from his eyes. "We've all rescued each other at different times over the years. What you did today was different. It required a personal sacrifice on my behalf and I honor you for it."

"I'm just glad that you're safe." He replied, then closed his eyes with a groan as she started massaging his temples and scalp. "That feels good…" he mumbled, then drifted off to sleep.

Diana's chin dropped in resignation when she heard the soft sounds of his snoring. "Timing is everything in life, isn't it Bruce?" she asked his prone figure. "Our timing is terrible. I can't even choose the right moment to seduce you."

She pulled the covers gently over him. Rising off the bed, she debated about whether to snuggle up next to him, then decided he'd earned the right to get some uninterrupted sleep. Shaking her head with regret that the opportunity had passed, she slipped out the door, heading to her quarters.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 

Lois Lane woke up in a fog, cursing her cell-phone as it chimed incessantly next to the bed. She'd stayed up late the previous evening, watching with both dread and rapt fascination as the story of Bruce Wayne's alternate identity played out on international television.

Her phone stopped chirping as soon as she swung her legs off the bed. She gratefully collapsed back into her pillows then screamed when it started chirping again, insistently clamoring for her attention. Cursing again when she realized the clock said it was only quarter till six, she debated whether to fling the phone out the window, but provided it with a reprieve at the last second when she realized all of her informants' numbers were stored in the phone.

"Lane," she rasped. "You'd better have a good reason for calling at this hour."

"Exclusive interview with the world's hottest story bore you these days, does it?" Batman replied. "Maybe I'll call that other guy from your paper. What's his name? Kent?"

"Don't you dare, Bruce." She flared. "Of course I want to talk to you. I've been sitting on this story for five years."

"Thought it only fair in return that you be the one to get the exclusive." He replied with a hollow grunt. "Get cleaned up and decent. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Make it thirty." Lois yelped, looking in the mirror at her disheveled reflection. "You don't want to see what I look like right now."

"I've seen you in the morning afterglow, Lois," he reminded her gently. "I'll be there in twenty."

**TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT**

Batman materialized on her balcony exactly twenty minutes later. Dressed in a bathrobe with only a see-through nightie underneath, she was running a comb through her wet hair when a shadow suddenly loomed into her reflection. Despite herself, she almost yelled in surprise. She motioned for him to open the door then mentally kicked herself when she realized it was locked. Lois fumbled through the locks for a few moments without success, then realized her anxiety was getting the better of her. She took a deep breath, tumbled the locks correctly this time, and ushered him into her place.

He strode in, cape billowing behind him as the cold morning winds of Metropolis swirled through the room.

She was surprised that he'd chosen to wear his full uniform, then realized now that the secret was out, showing up anywhere as Bruce Wayne was probably even a more difficult proposition then appearing as Batman. She motioned for him to sit on the couch. He didn't reply, instead making a beeline for the kitchen.

"Coffee?" he asked.

"I haven't made any," she confessed. "I'm still waking up."

He opened up her freezer and found a bag of Starbuck's pre-ground coffee. Lois provided a filter and filled up the container with water while he loaded the coffee into her machine. She turned on the button, then gave him a warm smile when the red light came on, signifying it was starting to brew.

"What about breakfast?" he implored, "I'm starving."

"Kinda pushy, dontcha think?" Lois asked with a smirk. "Do I look like the Betty Crocker type to you?"

"As if I'm Emeril," he snorted back. "Do you have anything edible? I'm hungry."

"Probably have a stale bagel or two in the fridge." She shrugged.

"Beggars can't be choosers." Batman replied, opening the fridge. Locating his target, he settled down at her counter, perched on a bar stool.

"Doesn't the League have any food on the Watchtower?" she asked, laughing as he wolfed down the bagel in a few bites.

"Everybody's looking at me like a circus freak up there." He grimaced. "That's saying a lot, considering the things some of them are capable of. I needed a break."

"You had a helluva day, yesterday," she murmured sympathetically, then placed a hand over the gauntlet resting on her countertop. "How are you, Bruce?"

As hard an edge as he knew Lois maintained in her daily life, given the abrupt severance of their relationship a few years before, he was touched by the emotion she'd expressed in the question.

He stared hard at her, remembering her violet eyes tinged with passion the first time he'd bedded her in Metropolis a few years before. He even allowed himself a quick glance at the edge of her nightie revealed whenever she shifted in her seat. In retrospect, their relationship was one of the most passionate he'd ever had. She'd readily agreed to his proposal to move to Gotham after dating for two weeks, then retreated equally as quick when she found out that he was Batman. They'd crossed paths only one time since then, when Ra's al-Ghul had kidnapped Superman. The Demon's Head had intended to use an ancient amulet to take the Kryptonian's powers as his own. Batman had followed the trail to Lois's doorstep, pausing long enough to collect the evidence he needed to thwart the plot.

He'd never allowed himself the luxury of looking back and asking 'What if?' when it came to Lois. Of all his past loves, she was the only woman he'd ever met who found Bruce Wayne more interesting than Batman.

Talia and Selina were more interested in the cape and cowl.

Diana liked both.

Gazing at the drops of water dripping onto her bathrobe, he allowed himself a small smile, knowing all too well that his romance from Lois had been doomed at the start.

"Bruce has been having a hard time of it." He admitted. "Luckily, Batman is fine, so we'll be all right in the long run."

"What are you, Harvey Dent?" she asked sarcastically. "Do you flip a coin in the morning to decide whether you wear the cape or the Armani suit?"

"I'm just making the point that the Bruce Wayne that you knew no longer exists." He replied roughly. "Do you want to start that interview or not?"

"Sure," she replied with a thoughtful look he didn't recognize, "Let me get my tape recorder."

**TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT**

Alfred Pennyworth and Dr. Leslie Thompkins materialized on the Watchtower's transport pad at nine in the morning, Gotham time. As Batman predicted, a number of reporters had tracked down Bruce Wayne's long-standing relationship with Dr. Thompkins. Her phone had started ringing off the hook at six that morning, then a throng of reporters had stationed themselves outside a few minutes later. Not content with waiting for an appearance, the reporters were taking turns shouting questions through her mail slot. After allowing himself a quick shower and preparing a quick breakfast for the two of them, Alfred returned her worried glances with resignation. Finished rinsing the dishes, he dutifully helped her pack two suitcases. He assembled his own baggage at their feet then called a phone number Bruce had asked him to commit to memory.

He heard the Martian's voice on the other end of the line, provided the code in sequence, then felt a rush of adrenaline pump through his system as they dematerialized from Dr. Thompkins's living room directly onto the transport pad a second later.

Leslie looked to be in shock. He extended a hand to steady her but she gave him a reassuring look, noting "There's really nothing in life that could prepare you for that, is there?"

Nightwing was waiting expectantly for them next to the transport technician. "Morning," he called with a wave. "Wild ride, huh?" he asked, nodding at the transporter.

"Master Bruce is detained, I take it?" Alfred queried, ignoring the question.

"He said he had a few errands to run," Nightwing replied. "I've been asked in the meantime to escort you to your quarters."

"Put us in the temporary quarters." Alfred replied. Looking at Leslie with an unasked question, he added, "I'm not sure how long we're staying."

"One room or two?" Nightwing replied with an understanding nod.

"One." Leslie replied warmly. "Then you can take me to the infirmary. I'm looking forward to seeing what they have here."

**TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT**

Dressed in civilian clothes, Tim Drake and Barbara Gordon occupied themselves with breakfast. Seated in her kitchen, they'd called in sick at school and work, respectively, having been roused from their slumbers at five-thirty by Batman's wake-up calls. They were both surprised the Dark Knight had chosen Barbara's apartment, but realizing their situation had taken such a dramatic turn in the past day, there was a good chance her apartment would have to serve as a temporary headquarters.

They were busily speculating as to the requirements of their new work situation when Batman suddenly materialized in her living room. While his involvement in the League had called him away from Gotham on a frequent basis, neither of them was used to the technology. Startled, Tim almost choked on a piece of bacon. Recovering his composure, the teenager pointed at the extra plate they'd set, anticipating his arrival.

"No thanks." Batman replied, pushing the plate away as he settled into the chair across from Barbara. "I already ate."

"Suit yourself." Tim replied, gratefully devouring the extra plate of food.

"How are you?" Barbara asked softly. Staring at Batman, the concern in her eyes was evident.

"Fine," came the clipped reply.

Barbara and Tim rolled their eyes. Tim started ticking off his fingers as he talked. "Lucius sent out your press release this morning. You publicly admitted that you've been carrying on the greatest charade in Western Civilization, resigned your position as Chairman of WayneTech, basically gave the company to a charity, then watched the Manor collapse into a smoking pile of rubble AND YOU'RE FINE?"

Batman looked at him with bemused interest. "I knew it would all end someday. Yesterday was that day."

"But the Cave…the equipment!" Tim protested. Seeing that he was making no headway at all, he finally relented. "Could you at least tell us what happened?"

Batman consented to that request, reasoning they had a right to know. While he left out as many details as he could manage, Tim and Barbara managed to fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle.

"So you did it for Diana," she surmised dreamily. "How romantic!"

"I did it for a teammate," he snarled back. "I would have done it for you or Tim, if necessary."

"Whatever," she dismissed his argument with a wave. "It's still romantic."

Tim looked at the redhead with a smirk, then decided to change the subject. "So where does that leave us?"

"It leaves the two of you on hiatus." Batman replied. He raised a gauntlet to silence their immediate protests, then leaned in to let them know he was serious. "Your identity is the single most important thing the two of you posses. Now that Batman's and Nightwing's identities are known, our enemies will redouble their efforts to find out who you are. You two are still young enough to move on and make something with your lives. It was a mistake on my part to allow the two of you to come as far as you have, but its time to get off the ride. "

"We can take care of ourselves." Tim protested, wounded that he was being dismissed as an apprentice. "Besides, if you're joining the League as a full-time member, who is going to stop us from taking on the bad guys in Gotham?"

"_I_ will stop you," Batman responded gravely. "If I'm not here to watch you kids full-time, something will go wrong."

"If something goes wrong, we could always relocate to the Watchtower." Barbara argued.

"It's not a place for people your age. You'd get bored."

"Kara's been up there as an associate member for six months," Barbara pouted, "And we're the same age!"

"Kara can pick up an office building with one hand," he replied, "It gives her a little edge on the rest of us. Any more questions? None? Good. I'll contact you if I need you."

He looked at the two of them, now silent and sullen ("furious" was a more appropriate description of Tim) that they weren't included in the next phase of Batman's adventures.

Pushing away from the table, he stepped back into the living room. He cleared his throat, suddenly constricted by the memories of working with the two of them over the years. "It's been an honor," he murmured, then triggered the signal to request transport.

**TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT**

Sitting at her desk at the Daily Planet, Lois Lane had just completed the fifth page of her article about Bruce Wayne when her stomach suddenly rumbled. She glanced at her watch, amazed that it was already three in the afternoon. Deciding she was in too much of a writing zone to allow herself the luxury of a sandwich, she resumed pounding away on her keyboard.

She'd entitled the article 'Hiding in Plain Sight.' The headline was a quote taken directly from her interview earlier that day with Bruce Wayne. For her benefit, he'd cited a number of instances where people should have realized Bruce Wayne and Batman were the same person. Lois had pointed out that she had no clue as to his alternate identity when they'd dated a few years before, only finding out when his cowl had been pulled into the Daily Planet's printing press during a confrontation with one of Lex's battle droids.

Lois leaned back in her chair, then a troubled look flashed over her face when she recounted his reply. Batman had actually _smiled_, then cryptically replied, "Not everybody has your ability to miss the obvious, Lois. Some of us have been hiding in plain sight for years."

She pulled the headphones from her tape recorder over her ears, then furiously rewound the tape to replay it. Staring directly at Clark Kent sitting at the desk across from hers, she stared at his face when Batman's words reverberated through the speakers. Her heart started pounding when she pictured Smallville without the thick glasses. Shifting her gaze, she looked at a framed headline of the Daily Planet from five years before. The article had won her first Pulitzer, but she wasn't staring at the headline. Under the headline, a full-color head-shot of Superman filled the page.

"Smallville!" she whispered furiously.

"Yes, Lois?" the mild-mannered reporter replied, eyebrows raised in question.

"Want to buy me lunch?" she asked sweetly.

"Sure," he replied. Grabbing his jacket, he escorted her to the elevator. "Little late, isn't it?"

"Better late than never," she replied with a disarming smile, then stepped into the elevator.

Clark Kent did a double-take as he stepped in behind her. Ill-natured by temperament, Lois Lane had never acted this way as long as he'd known her… unless she wanted something or if she knew a secret. He contemplated the sudden change in her personality as they rode down the fifty-eight floors.

"Where do you want to eat?"

"I was thinking…Paris," she replied smugly.

"Paris, huh? New restaurant I should know about?"

"No, Superman. I meant Paris. As in France."

"France is a long way to go for lunch," he joked, then his stomach lurched when he realized what she'd said. "I'm sorry, did you just call me Superman?"

"Yes, _Superman_, in fact I _did_ call you _Superman_. Is it wrong that I call you_ Superman, Superman_?" she quipped, then punched the 'Stop' button on the elevator, halting their descent at the sixth floor.

"Am I missing something?" he replied in his best, innocent-farmer-from-Kansas demeanor.

"I interviewed Batman this morning…" she started.

"That's great, Lois!" Clark exclaimed. "I remembered you dated Bruce Wayne awhile back when he dropped in from Gotham. Wait… you didn't know back then he was Batman, did you?"

"Stop changing the subject, Superman," she replied angrily. "Of course I knew he was Batman. What I didn't know until just now was that you're Superman."

He opened his mouth to protest the accusation, then realized that given her determination, any denials on his part would only further damage his relationship with Lois. He sighed, then pulled off the glasses. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing," Lois replied. "It just dawned on me while I was writing about _him_ hiding in plain sight that all this time that I was working with somebody who always disappears at the same time Superman shows up to save the day. Nice sleight of hand by the way. I got so preoccupied remembering details about Superman that I always forgot to look after Clark Kent."

"It's worked for five years," He nodded ruefully then asked, "What now?"

She pressed the button releasing the elevator from its hold, then surprised him by giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "First you're going to help me proofread my story for Perry. Then, you're going to fly me to Paris for dinner."

"Deal." He replied with a smile, then propped the glasses back onto his nose.

**TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT**


	5. Adjustments

Thanks to Princess Paula for the beta

**Chapter #5 - Adjustments  
**  
Laying on his back in a Jeffries Tube (service tunnels which accessed  
engineering and life support systems), Batman had just spent his  
sixth consecutive hour working on a power conduit without  
interruption. Lying on his back, his arms were extended above his  
head. The position was uncomfortable and resulted in cramps every few  
minutes. Tired of the monotony, he cursed himself for not remembering  
to duct air conditioning or heaters into the Tubes when he and J'onn  
had designed the second Tower'.

At its present altitude, the Watchtower completed an orbit around the  
Earth every two hours. He'd alternated suffering between hot and cold  
and hot air again as the Tower moved in and out of the sun's rays.  
He'd allowed himself the luxury of pulling off the cape and cowl as  
the first restricted his movements and the second obscured his vision  
when peering into the darkened recesses of the coupling. After two  
hours, he'd even hung his utility belt on a metal outcropping as the  
batarangs in the rear compartment were jabbing into his kidneys.

Given the large variations in temperature, he was immediately aware  
of the fact that somebody else had entered the Tube. A tell-tale  
breeze stirred the stale air around him. He knew it wasn't a  
technician as only members of the Inner Council were allowed to work  
on the sensitive systems. That basically meant only he and J'onn were  
ever down here as nobody else possessed the particular engineering  
knowledge (or more likely the desire) to help with maintenance tasks.  
As J'onn had assumed a full-time position as the Commandant who  
assigned League duties, until now Batman had possessed only a free  
minute or two to deal with the occasional maintenance request. Now  
that he had all the time in the world, he was free to upgrade the  
Watchtower system by system.

Her scent wafted up the service tunnel before she reached him. There  
was something about her scent which drove him crazy (not that he  
would ever have admitted that to anyone). Other than commercially  
manufactured shampoos and soaps they'd used on the Watchtowers, she  
didn't use anything special for her bathing requirements. (He could  
confirm this empirically, having broken into her room a few months  
after they'd formed the original League to find out why the her scent  
drove him crazy). After extensive chemical analysis, he concluded it  
was just her natural pheromones that had such a debilitating effect  
on him.

"Diana." He muttered, poised with the allen wrench and screwdriver  
over his head. "What can I do for you?"

Knowing she'd lost the element of surprise (she really wanted to  
sneak up on him just once to say that she'd done it), she decided to  
flirt a little instead. "Good question," she replied with a grin,  
hovering over him a second later until their noses were only inches  
apart. "But since you saved me, shouldn't the question be what can I  
do for you?"

"We've been through that already," he protested. "Trust me, I'm not  
keeping score."

Perturbed she'd lost the advantage of surprise, she decided to change  
tactics. Still hovering over him as he lay on his back, she rolled  
over to see what he was working on. Given the close quarters, her  
movements caused her to lightly drag the front of her bodice over his  
chests. Feeling her breasts gently being dragged over him was  
torture, and part of him wondered if she'd done it intentionally.

"Diana, what are you doing?"

"Just curious to see what you're working on," she replied. "Thought I  
could help."

"Do you have any working knowledge of power conduits?" he asked,  
repositioning his torso to the side in order to gain a vantage-point  
not blocked by her mane of raven hair.

"None whatsoever," she replied with a grin. "But the good thing is  
that I haven't formed any misconceptions or bad habits."

"Great," he lamented sarcastically. "Just what I need. Another  
apprentice to train."

"I won't wear the Robin suit," she whispered lasciviously, rolling  
back again (and finding a second opportunity to press her body  
lightly against his) to face him. Her breath was noticeably hot on  
his neck, "Even if you ask nicely."

He paused, then put the tools down behind his head with a  
grunt. "Diana, are you trying to seduce me?"

Her face immediately flushed red with embarrassment. Her eyes darted  
left and right, her brain wracked to find an adequate denial with no  
success. Finally, she gave a nervous nod. "How am I doing?"

"Not that I don't appreciate the effort," he admitted. He raised his  
head off the floor to look her directly in the eye. As he brought his  
gaze up, it was impossible to ignore the generous amount of cleavage  
poised inches from his chin. Allowing himself the luxury of a smile,  
he raised his eyebrow in query, "But in a Jeffries Tube?"

Diana deflated with embarrassment. To her, the awkwardness of the  
situation was overwhelming, especially for a woman used to getting  
her way most (if not all) of the time. "You're a hard man to pin  
down, Bruce Wayne. I tried the other night on surveillance and you  
gave me a list of reasons why we couldn't date. I tried last night in  
your room but you fell asleep. I tried to bring you breakfast in bed  
this morning but you'd already left the Watchtower. This…" she noted,  
surveying the Tube around them, "seemed to be the best opportunity I  
was going to get."

Batman didn't reply. Slowly, he pulled the gauntlets off his hands  
then cupped her left cheek in his right hand. "First, from here on  
out, call me Batman. If the senior members of the League won't, then  
nobody else will either. Second, I appreciate the gesture, Diana.  
Really, I do. But, this…this isn't like you."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation then allowed herself a nervous  
laugh to alleviate the tension. "Okay…Batman it is. Trust me when I  
say that seducing you in an engineering compartment wasn't my first  
choice. However, my mother taught me if I desired something, I had to  
accept the consequences…and the baggage that came with it. When I  
wanted a horse, it was on condition that I clean the stalls. If I  
want you, then it's obvious I'll have to pin you down in an  
engineering conduit. Pretty simple if you think about it. How about  
you?"

The openness of the admission, followed up by the direct question, made him  
squirm. His eyes searched someplace else to look other than the  
inviting mound of cleavage perched inches from his nose, but finally  
gave up. "I've…thought about us from time to time," he allowed. "But  
I always imagined spiriting you off someplace more…appropriate."

"Well then, use your imagination more often." She whispered huskily,  
then gently settled her mouth onto his. His hands immediately snaked  
around her waist, linking behind the small of her back. He pulled her  
down and she willingly gave up her hover, melting into him.

The next few minutes were a tangle of arms and legs; teeth gnashing  
against lips and tongues. Their desire for each other became more  
desperate by the second as their hands roamed each other's bodies,  
exploringthe most sensitive parts. Weary of the constrictive  
armor which guarded what he desired, Bruce expertly located the  
release. Breathing heavily, she peeled the armor away, spilling her breasts onto his chest. His touch was immediate, passionate. In return, she softly brushed the back of her  
hand against the growing bulge in his pants.

Her eyes lit with her own arousal, responding to his as they spiraled  
into a passion neither had known. She'd just hooked her thumbs over  
his waistband to remove his pants when an alarm sounded in their ear-  
pieces. Over the Comm. Link, J'onn asked the Inner Council to  
assemble in five minutes to discuss a border dispute escalating in  
Kosovo between the ethnic Albanians and the Serbs who refused to  
leave.

Screaming in frustration, Diana punched a bulkhead over their heads.  
Her fist-print was clearly visible in the aluminum plating. Batman  
gingerly examined her hand to make sure there wasn't any damage, then  
handed over her breastplate. She dressed quickly, without any show of  
embarrassment or awkwardness. The only emotion evident on her face  
was the obvious disappointment that they hadn't been able to  
consummate the act right there.

A heavy moment of silence hung between them after he'd managed to  
piece together the last parts of his own uniform.

Not knowing what to say, he finally muttered, "That was…interesting."

"Take a rain check?" she asked with a grin. Diana inched forward,  
gave him a short but passionate kiss, then sped away, flying down the  
Jeffries Tube.

By necessity, he crawled out on all fours, finally making his way to  
the Inner Council chamber a few minutes later to receive J'onn's de-  
brief on the situation in Kosovo. The other members were already  
discussing the situation when he arrived. He noted grimly that Diana  
had even managed to find the time to comb out her tousled hair, but  
he quietly relished the fact that her cheeks were still flushed with  
heat. The fact that he walked into the chamber with an uncomfortable  
limp was evident only to Diana.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Nightwing awoke to the disorienting feeling of jet-lag. The  
Watchtower operated on the same time zone as Greenwich Mean Time  
(GMT), five hours ahead of Bludhaven. For the past two nights, he'd  
wandered the corridors with aimless purpose. Reasoning that since  
everyone else was asleep, he tasked himself to get acquainted with  
the space station's layout in order to deal with any future  
situation.

Part of him screamed the exercise was stupid and pointless, but Bruce  
had raised him into adulthood reiterating the mantra that one could  
never have enough contingencies. Accordingly, while Dick Grayson was  
screaming to find a playstation and have some fun, his ego forced him  
to carry out the task.

Initially, the wandering hadn't been without its rewards. During his  
foray into the upper levels (science, engineering, laboratories etc),  
Zatanna had suddenly appeared with Kara in two. Much to his  
consternation (he'd worshipped the fishnet stockings she'd worn since  
his early teens), Zatanna acted aloof, as if she had somewhere else  
to be. Sensing her companion's indifference, Kara asked him if he  
wanted some company. He accepted her invitation without any  
enthusiasm, then watched with disappointment as Zatanna vanished  
around a bulkhead.

He turned his attention to Kara. At nineteen, she was four years  
younger chronologically and probably light-years in terms of  
maturity. His initial impression was that despite her superpowers,  
she was more the impressionable farm girl from Kansas than a sage  
crime-fighter. She did little to dissuade that notion, entangling her  
feet on a loose piece of carpet as they started to walk. Only his  
quick reflexes saved her from an embarrassing collision with the  
wall. Mute with embarrassment for the next few minutes, eventually  
she loosened up. Her natural loquacity got the best of her.  
Enthusiastically, she shared her impressions (as well as the latest  
gossip) about every member of the League. He was surprised she  
divulged so many intimate secrets (she whispered that it was a well-  
known secret that GL was sleeping with Vixen), but in retrospect he  
was glad that the latest League gossip took his mind of Batman's  
recent troubles.

The young adults eventually ended up in the observation lounge. While  
Dick had voyaged to space on a few Titans missions, he never stopped  
being in awe of the sight of sunrise over the bright, blue planet  
beneath them.

Turning to face her, Nightwing was startled to find her standing only  
a few inches away from him. She grinned meekly, her face flushed with  
anxiety but nothing came to her mind. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he  
finally asked, nodding his head at the spectacle of the sunrise.

"I didn't think members of the Bat-family were allowed to see  
sunrise," she replied with a grin. "Don't you harden to stone or  
something?"

"We use gargoyles to secure our jump lines," Dick murmured  
dryly. "But last I checked, none of us has yet become one."

"Your…father would do best to remember that," Kara said icily. "He's  
kind of a monster in his own way."

"Bruce is a handful," Nightwing agreed, quickly rising to his feet.  
Anger flashed through his dark brown eyes. "But I doubt that you know  
him well enough to judge him like that."

"I didn't mean…" she started, then trailed off as he retreated down  
the corridor.

"'Night, Kara." He called over his shoulder.

Laying in bed, Nightwing sullenly recalled leaving the petite blonde  
standing by herself, wide-eyed with regret as he strode away. Sensing  
another presence as the cause for his abrupt wake-up, he sat up. His  
instincts were correct as Bruce was standing in the corner, quietly  
looking at a few photos Dick had displayed on the mantle.

Nightwing studied him with curiosity for a moment, then shook his  
head with resignation. He knew it was his duty to start the  
conversation.

"Morning," he muttered grumpily.

"There's an akido class at ten o'clock this morning I'd like you to  
teach." Batman replied coldly.

"Yeah, I saw the flyer for that in the commissary." Nightwing  
replied. "Aren't you teaching it?"

"Something's come up," Batman said stiffly. "You can handle it.  
Aikido was always your best discipline."

Nightwing considered requesting additional information, then realized  
with a start that he had nothing better to do. His door opened and  
shut quickly, then Dick's visitor was gone.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Nightwing arrived in the dojo already dressed in a gi. The white  
cotton pajamas were somewhat superfluous but Bruce had learned in  
them and during his training as a teenager Bruce had insisted Dick  
wear them as well.

Much to his surprise, the room was surprisingly full. Attendees  
included Huntress, Black Canary, Zatanna, Fire, Ice, Star, Dr. Light,  
Crimson Fox, Gypsy and Vixen. Diana and Kara walked in a few seconds  
after him. In a rush with her eyes locked on the floor, the young  
Argonian almost bumped into him with her gym bag. He deftly stepped  
out of the way, careful not to antagonize her any further. Finally  
emerging from her daze, she recoiled away from him a moment later,  
accidentally bumping Diana into the doorframe.

"Sorry," Kara muttered, then her face flushed with embarrassment. She  
put her head down in a huff, then stormed to the back row next to  
Zatanna and Star.

"How did it go last night?" Zatanna asked with a grin.

"Terrible." Kara answered, throwing her bag to the ground with a hard  
bang. She listened with one ear as the young man briefed them about  
the class' agenda. Nightwing asked them to each find a stretching  
partner, then asked for a volunteer to come up to the head of the  
class to assist him. Kara's hand shot up in the air as if by its own  
volition. Nightwing quickly scanned the crowd then picked Black  
Canary (she was one of the few people on the Watchtower he knew on a  
first name basis).

Satisfied everyone was partnered up, he started leading the class  
through a stretching routine. Crestfallen Nightwing had picked the  
older blond, Kara dropped her head in resignation. Zatanna propped up  
her leg to start the stretch then asked her to continue relating the  
previous evening's events. "Where was I? Terrible? Well, that's not  
entirely true. It was going great at first. We were talking up in the  
observation lounge. I even thought at one point that he was going to  
kiss me..."she embellished.

"Really?" Zatanna asked with a note of jealousy Kara didn't pick up.

"…but then I kinda went off on Bruce. Dick didn't take it very kindly  
and bailed."

"His Dad is a sensitive subject under the best of times," Zatanna  
whispered back. "Just tell him you didn't mean it and everything will  
be fine, I promise."

A row ahead of them, Diana surveyed the class suspiciously. Each time  
Nightwing bent over to lead them in a stretch, every pair of eyes  
near her would sharply swivel to gaze at his butt. It didn't matter  
if the women were stretching their ligaments to the limit; all of  
them were craning for a better look. Partnered with Huntress, Diana  
was soon puffing with exertion. The stretching required more effort  
than she'd bargained for. She glanced over as Nightwing reached down  
to touch his toes. The act elicited two soft whimpers from the back  
row, followed by a few laughs from the women in on the joke. Diana  
and Huntress exchanged disapproving glances. Perplexed, Diana finally  
asked the question that had been on her mind since she walked in the  
door.

"Is this class women only?"

Huntress bit back a laugh when she heard the question. "It sure looks  
that way, doesn't it?"

"I don't understand." Diana remarked lamely. "Why wouldn't any men  
take this class?"

"Two reasons," Huntress replied with a grin. "The men are all afraid  
Batman would make them look bad so they won't come. All the women are  
here because we found out Dick was going to substitute teach."

"Is he better at aikido than Bruce?" Diana asked, grimacing as  
Huntress pulled her foot back to stretch the hamstring.

Huntress shook her head in exasperation at the Amazon's  
naivete. "Better at aikido? No. Better looking in a gi? Yes."

Diana's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you telling me that everyone  
is here just to stare at his rear end?"

"His rear, his chest, eyes, hair, whatever turns you on." Huntress  
replied with a smirk.

Diana allowed herself an objective look at the younger man's sinewy  
frame. "I guess in some circles he could be viewed as handsome."

"Said the Amazon who prefers brooding types." Huntress noted  
playfully. "It doesn't matter if you think he's hot," she nodded her  
head at Dick, "Because the rest of us do."

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Batgirl and Robin landed on her apartment balcony with a silent thud.  
Given the late hour, she double-checked their surroundings before  
pulling open the patio door. The two slipped in quietly, not  
bothering to turn on the lights, then plopped into her overstuffed  
armchairs with groans.

"How you feelin'?" Tim asked with concern as she stifled a yelp.

"Ribs are sore…could have been worse." She winced, pulling off her  
mask. "How bout you?"

"Same. Right hip's a little out of whack. Nothing I can't handle." He  
replied gingerly, trying to reassure her that he felt a little better  
than he did.

"Just what part of my You're on hiatus' speech did the two of you  
not understand yesterday?" Batman growled from the corner.

Despite years of being surprised by the Dark Knight's sudden  
appearances, the two of them almost back-flipped out of their chairs.

"Jesus Christ you scared us!" Tim yelped. "Have you ever heard of a  
phone-call before you pop in like that?"

"A phone call which would give you an advance warning that I was  
coming, you mean?" Batman asked icily.

"How long have you been here?" Barbara asked, settling back into her  
chair. He stared impassively in her direction, not responding.  
Nervously, she started pulling off her gloves and boots, fumbling  
with the releases as she went.

"Long enough to track you two to the South End," he replied darkly  
then his gaze swiveled to Robin. "I thought I trained you better."

"I lost track of my guy so I followed him into the warehouse," Tim  
admitted. "Never saw the punch."

"But I was there to back him up, so it ended up working out fine."  
Barbara interjected, then did a double-take. Staring hard at the Dark  
Knight, her eyes flashed with realization. "Wait, you were there the  
whole time and let us fight it out with that mob army? Why didn't you  
help?"

"There were two men on the catwalk armed with Sig-Sauers you never  
saw," he replied angrily. "You'd both be on a cold slab at the morgue  
if I didn't follow you in there."

Tim and Barbara both paled but she regained her composure first. "It  
won't happen again!"

"No, it won't happen again." Batman intoned ominously. "I want your  
belts, grapples, comm. links and uniforms. As of right now, consider  
your status changed from hiatus to permanently retired."

Barbara crossed her arms and pouted in her chair, refusing to  
budge. "You didn't give me this uniform! I made it!"

"If it's not in a bag at my feet in five minutes, I'll put you in the  
bag along with it." He replied icily. "Try me."

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Alfred and Leslie were seated in the observation lounge. Marveling at  
the sights of the Caribbean Sea beneath them (Barbados was off to the  
right), neither of them heard the Dark Knight approach their couch.

"Enjoying the view?" he inquired.

"It's lovely, Bruce. It really is." She replied with a smile, then  
patted the couch next to her. "Sit down, please."

"I've seen it." He muttered, not altering his stance.

"You've taken in the view, have you?" Alfred scoffed in  
rebuttal. "Not bloody likely."

"I've seen it," Batman reiterated, perturbed that the valet was  
making an open mockery of him.

"You may have seen the view with your eyes," Alfred shot back, "But  
my point, if I may be so bold, is that you haven't yet allowed  
yourself to enjoy the beauty of it. Need I remind you that you do  
have more time to appreciate such things these days."

"I'm busy," Batman intoned. "There's more than enough work up here to  
fully occupy my time."

"I see." Alfred muttered with resignation. "So I take it you won't be  
joining us either in Switzerland or in Barbados? Judging by the  
pictures, they appear to provide adequate privacy such that Bruce  
Wayne would not be bothered."

"Thank you," Batman replied stiffly, "But there's too much work to do  
here. When are you leaving?"

"I'd like to spend another few days helping them sort out the  
infirmary." Leslie replied. "The triage protocols you've established  
are completely backwards. Once I get that sorted out and shaped up,  
we'll be out of your way."

There was no response except for a bright beam of moonlight that  
suddenly shot through the window, temporarily blinding them. The  
windows automatically changed their polarization to dampen the bright  
light. By the time Alfred and Leslie had lowered their hands, the  
Dark Knight had retreated back into the shadows of the corridor. She  
looked at Alfred with exasperation.

"How does he do that?"


	6. Checkmate

Thanks to all for the feedback on this ficcie. This one has been a rare character study than plot-oriented (typical for me), but a fun ride nevertheless for this writer. I do very much appreciate the feedback. With that, the conclusion:

**Chapter #6 - Checkmate**

Diana was quietly ruminating alone in the commissary when she felt a presence behind her. Alfred stood stiffly, a cup of afternoon tea in hand, silently waiting for an invitation. Diana inwardly smiled. No matter how hard she'd tried during the six months she and J'onn had lived in the Manor after Watchtower One's destruction, she'd been unable to get Alfred to ever relax or confide in her as a friend. Much to her chagrin, to date, theirs had been a professional relationship. Today, there was something about the look in his eyes that gave the impression that might change.

"Good morning, Alfred. Would you like to join me?" she asked, patting the chair next to her.

"Thank you, Princess Diana." Alfred replied crisply, then sat down with the exaggerated mannerisms that only an English Butler could seem to pull-off without appearing ridiculous.

"Alfred, please, it's Diana." She gently rebuked.

"I'm sorry, Princess Diana, but where I come from, people are taught that titles are something to be honored. Master Bruce will remain Master Bruce to me, whether or not he chooses to don the cape and cowl permanently."

"What other option does he really have, Alfred?" Diana asked pointedly. "You've seen the reaction in the press. Even the shareholders have filed suit. What's the latest allegation? He embezzled billions of dollars out of the company to pay for Justice League expenses?"

"Unfortunately, they may have a point." Alfred replied with a chuckle, looking around the expanse of the orbiting space station. "Except any shares of WayneTech they try to recover from the charities that now control the stock will end up taking food out of the mouths of starving children. That will be a public relations disaster for which those lawyers are not prepared. Master Bruce was well aware that if he did anything else with the company the SEC would have taken it over by the end of the trading session."

"What's the latest in Gotham?" she inquired.

"You haven't been watching the news?"

"Not since the Manor collapsed, no." She admitted. "It's too depressing."

"The good people of Gotham have taken it upon themselves to show their gratitude for Master Bruce's help these many years. As we speak, they're erecting…a shrine for lack of a better term, at his parents' grave."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, perplexed.

Alfred reached up and turned on the monitor in the corner. "It seems that a number of people who were rescued by Batman over the years are laying flowers on his parents' grave. Somewhat of a tribute to the tragedy of Bruce Wayne, I gather."

The LCD monitor displayed an MSNBC broadcast of people lined up over a mile long outside the Gotham Memorial Cemetery plot where Thomas and Martha Wayne had been laid to rest more than twenty-five years ago. A pile of roses stood more than five feet tall in front of their headstones. The reporters took turns interviewing those paying tribute, all of who gratefully recounted their tales of rescue at the hands of the Dark Knight.

They watched in silent, rapt attention at the spectacle of it, then Diana finally turned off the television twenty minutes later. "It reminds me of Hector's funeral during the siege of Troy. We halted our siege for a day of tribute. The only difference is that Bruce isn't dead."

"I worry that the Bruce we know _is_ dead," Alfred replied dryly. "Have you noticed that Batman has taken over on a full-time basis? He barks at anyone who calls him the name his parent's gave him, including me."

"I noticed," she replied with a frown. "I'm hoping it's temporary. He'll snap out of it, won't he? I was assuming that he had other options besides full-time engineering work here on the Watchtower."

"As for Master Bruce's other options, I'm not sure what other choices he has, but having known him for as long as I have, I am concerned." Alfred stated forlornly.

"About what?"

"Despite Master Bruce's past misgivings about having to act the playboy… the fop if you will, in order to protect his public identity, I always thought that flirting and dancing with pretty girls wasn't all that bad a way to keep one foot planted in every-day reality."

"This…" Diana pointed around, signifying the expanse of the Watchtower, "…isn't reality?"

"As a child, this is about as far from reality as I could ever imagine." Alfred replied drolly. "While I like you very much…"

"The feeling is mutual." She interjected, softly placing her hand over his.

"… most people on the planet think the League is more of a collection of demi-gods then anything else. I'm worried that if Master Bruce is forced to reside here all of the time, his obsession will become even deeper, more dangerous than it already is." Alfred finished darkly.

"What are you saying?" Diana inquired, the confusion evident in her face.

"I don't pretend to be a psychiatrist, but Master Bruce needs an occasional reminder that he is human," Alfred replied, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, "Or I fear the League will run a risk that his usual paranoia will escalate into some latent kind of psychosis. Being Bruce Wayne by day kept that psychosis in check. Now, I'm not so sure."

"What would you suggest?" Diana asked thoughtfully.

"I wish I knew," Alfred sighed wearily, finishing his cup of tea. "But there are only a few people, including, I hope, the two of us, to whom he'll listen."

"I've been trying, without much success." Diana admitted. "Who else is there?"

"I believe Master Bruce respects the opinions of Mr. Stewart and Mr. Kent. Of course, there is always his son. Master Dick has always had a way of injecting some much needed humor into the worst of situations."

"What about Batgirl? Robin?" she pressed curiously.

"Currently on the inactive roster by order of Himself, Miss Gordon and Master Drake are considered too young to be entrusted with an opinion." Alfred replied dryly. "Of course, that decision was made by the same man who decided as an eight-year old to become a superhero."

"I see." Diana mused. Shaking her head for a moment to clear her thoughts, she decided to settle on another topic. "May I ask what your plans are now? Are you and Dr. Thompkins going to stay on the Watchtower?"

"The Detective deduced that we've become…romantically involved. Master Bruce has been so kind as to provide both of us homes in somewhat remote areas where we can live out the rest of our lives without any outside interference or inquiry. Mine's in Switzerland, hers in Barbados. We're going to pay them each a visit, see if there's any upkeep that needs to be done. In a few weeks, we hope to return to see how Master Bruce is faring in his new life."

"There's something you should know before you leave, Alfred. I'm in love with him." Diana blurted sharply.

"Have you told him this?" the valet asked.

"Not in so many words, no. My approach has been a little more…direct." She admitted with an embarrassed grin. "But he's been avoiding me since then." She sighed wearily. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I just…thought you should know."

The older man smiled warmly. "That news warms my heart more than you know. I thought when you lived at the Manor that Master Bruce acted somewhat out of sorts. Now I know the reason."

"Do you have any idea how he feels about me?" She asked, mortified to be pressing Bruce's surrogate father for information but tactically realizing that she might not be presented with another opportunity in the near term.

"To be honest, he hasn't confided in me directly." Alfred noted. "He's gotten very good at masking his feelings. He gets a little better at that each day. But I will say this, I don't believe for an instant he would have so easily given up his identity for anyone else."

"Thank you, Alfred." Diana replied, feeling a little bit better. "You're too kind."

"Not at all, Miss Diana," Alfred's eyes winked mischievously. "Not at all. In fact, I have an idea that might be interesting."

**TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT**

Batman was stalking down one of the 'Towers myriad corridors. With his cape billowing behind him, Flash had once noted Batman looked eerily like Darth Vader walking around the Death Star. While a technician scurried to get out of his way, Vibe and Wildcat made a point to cross his path.

"Morning, Bruce." They both chimed in unison.

Not breaking stride, he scowled back at them but said nothing. Since his encounter with Diana in the Jeffries Tube, he'd become more convinced than ever to clearly delineate to the League that Bruce Wayne was a thing of the past. Only Batman existed now. The revelation that he had no life, no existence to return to, was welcome in an odd way. Batman could now devote one-hundred percent of his time to the mission without the daily interruptions of being Bruce Wayne, CEO and public playboy.

He'd started working with J'onn two days earlier to upgrade the systems capabilities of the Monitor Womb. The Martian had been somewhat perplexed that he'd been able to upgrade the power relay in the Jeffries Tube so quickly. He didn't have a new project at hand to give to Batman so the Dark Knight decided to stay busy by re-vetting the entire corps (over 200) of civilian technicians. He'd spent the last 48 hours barricaded in his bedroom working through the hard copies of the files, comparing the background checks with additional information he was able to pull from various police and security agency networks.

He was on his way to meet with J'onn to discuss possible security problems with seventy of the technicians (not that he was overly paranoid) when the two men called him Bruce. He dismissed it as a lapse on their part until Booster Gold and Vigilante rounded the corner.

"Morning, Bruce." They called out in succession.

His eyes narrowed sharply behind the cowl, at a loss to determine why the associate members would treat him with such…disregard. Making his way to the Monitor Womb, he finally located J'onn huddled with a group of technicians.

Seeing his arrival, the group of technicians all bellowed out "Mr. Wayne!" "Good Morning, Bruce" and other variations of the personal greeting.

He pulled J'onn aside and growled, "What's the meaning of this?"

The Martian was nonplussed by his fierce display. "They're just saying 'Good morning, Bruce.' I fail to see the harm in that."

"Who put you up to this?" Batman snarled, leaning in as anger flashed behind the cowl.

"Perhaps you should have a talk with Diana," J'onn replied passively. "She thought it would be a good idea for you to enjoy more personal interactions with your teammates. In fact, just this morning in the commissary, she made a public announcement, insisting that everyone call you Bruce."

"Even the technicians?" Batman demanded indignantly.

"Even the technicians." The Martian responded. "After all, they're people too."

Batman turned on his heel to storm out of the Monitor Womb, but J'onn put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. "Where are you going?"

"To find Diana." Batman replied cooly. "We're going to have a little talk."

"That will have to wait for later." J'onn replied. "There's a communications relay I'd like you to examine. It's been giving highly variable readings during peak solar flare activity. I'm afraid it needs to be replaced."

"Fine." Batman growled as J'onn punched up a schematic of the Watchtower. "Where is it?"

**TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT**

Twelve hours later the Dark Knight eased himself into a chair next to his bed. The communications relay had proven difficult to access but even more difficult to repair. While the readings from his side indicated the relay was working properly, J'onn kept finding a number of irregularities on his end of the data stream. Reluctantly, Batman had replaced the relay, a task which took the rest of the day, including adjustments to ensure the line of sight satellite tracking system was working properly.

His body ached from the last few days of labor. Dropping his gauntlets on the floor, he'd just started going through the motions of undressing so he could take a shower when his doorbell chirped, announcing a visitor. Batman quickly pulled on his uniform, then opened the door.

Alfred stood in the doorway. He cleared his throat then with a flourish produced an embossed envelope addressed to "Master Bruce Wayne."

Batman looked at him with a glare, then muttered, "What is it, Alfred? I'm tired."

"I believe it's an invitation, Sir. Why don't you open it and find out?"

Batman measured the gaze of his valet. He'd known him long enough now that he could pretty well judge the outcome of a conversation before it happened solely based on Alfred's expression. Today it told him that he was going to have to accommodate the man or face his wrath in some fashion later on.

Reluctantly, he opened the invitation. There was only a simple inscription on it, stating "Bruce Wayne's Ball, 7 p.m. GMT, Commissary"

He looked at the clock then turned his gaze to Alfred. "It already started, huh? What scheme have you cooked up today?"

"Why don't you walk with me to the commissary, Master Bruce, and find out for yourself?"

Batman sighed with resignation, then lurched to his feet. "Let's go, Alfred."

The one thing that was immediately apparent during their stroll to the commissary was that the Watchtower appeared empty. Usually beehives of activity, the corridors were lacking the usual flurry of League members and even devoid of the technicians who typically scurried about at all hours.

They finally stopped a minute later at the door to the commissary, then Alfred surprised Batman by stepping up and knocking at the door.

"Who is it?" a metallic voice rang out from behind the door.

"Master Bruce Wayne," Alfred announced loftily.

The door opened with a whoosh. Perplexed, Batman strode into the room and immediately found himself surrounded by fifty other people dressed up in his uniform.

"Hi, Bruce!" They all yelled out on cue.

A blond-haired woman was standing directly in front of him, dressed as Batgirl. By the mane of hair and the curves of her body, he immediately knew it was Black Canary. "Dinah!" he barked, "What is the meaning of this?"

"I'm sorry, Bruce!" She replied with a smile. "Please call me Batman."

"No, I'm Batman!" John Stewart yelled, landing next to her. His suit was the most impressive in terms of technical detail. Batman remembered that his ring allowed him to wear whatever he wanted.

"Nice suit, Batman." Batman muttered with a smirk.

"Thanks, Bruce." John replied with a good-natured slap to the other man's back. "Go have some fun."

Batman nodded then wandered off to find Diana. He was reasonably sure she was the mastermind behind this entire charade, and he was determined to find her. Searching the crowd, he bumped into another Batman an inch taller than his six-foot, three-inch frame, accompanied by a raven haired Batgirl with violet eyes. He leaned in, then recoiled in shock when he realized who it was.

"Lois? What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, Bruce!" She deadpanned, then muttered the next line as if she'd rehearsed it a few times. "Please call me Batman."

He nodded with a glint in his eye, then did a double take when he realized the origin of Clark's Batman suit. "That's one of my old ones," he exclaimed. "Where did you get it?"

"Alfred loaned it to me, Bruce," Clark replied, duplicating Bruce Wayne's voice with chilling precision. "And by the way…"

"I know, I know, 'Please call me Batman'" Batman parroted back. "Where's Diana?"

"Dunno."

He scanned the crowd, looking for the tall Amazon, but stopped searching when he saw Nightwing crossing the room. Much to his surprise, instead of Zatanna, Nightwing was towing a petite blonde 'Batgirl' that Bruce immediately recognized as Supergirl. Nightwing (dressed as himself) walked over to shake his hand. Nightwing broke into a wide grin and hugged him.

"Great party, eh Bruce?" the younger man slurred. (Batman later found out that Booster Gold had spiked the non-alcoholic punch).

Batman nodded absently, then pulled Nightwing aside. He keyed a button on his belt that emitted a hypersonic field so that a super-hearing meta wouldn't eavesdrop on their conversation.

"You're dating Supergirl? Kind of dangerous, isn't it? What happened to Zatannna?"

"I asked her out after the aikido class but no luck. She gave me the 'let's be friends' speech." The younger man confided. "Kara was available so, I just thought, you know, why not ask her out instead?"

Batman nodded in understanding, flipped off the switch, then he walked his son back to rejoin the group. He studied his inebriated son and his tipsy date with cold detachment, then shrugged with resignation.

'Knowing how Kara's looking at Dick, Clark will probably be screaming for Nightwing's head in the morning.' He thought with a silent laugh.

Knowing that young lust was almost impossible to extinguish, he turned his attention to another couple who emerged from the throng of Batmen. Alfred and Leslie Thompkins, both dressed in the uniform of the day, approached him with knowing grins. Bruce bowed respectfully to the two of them.

"So you played some part in this, I take it?"

"It was a group effort, sir. Perhaps the right analogy would be that it was a family effort." Alfred replied.

"Where's Diana?"

"Do you mean Batwoman?" a sultry voice whispered behind him.

Starting his gaze at her black stiletto heels, Batman's eyes slowly crawled up her legs, lingered a moment too long at the generous amount of cleavage Alfred had tailored into the suit, then finally met her gaze. Instead of a cowl, Diana had opted for a flared mask similar to the one Huntress now wore as part of her new uniform. Her raven hair spilled either side of the mask. Her outfit was constructed from leather instead of his nomex-kevlar weave, but knowing that her bracelets protected her from bullets and other weapons, there wasn't much call for the additional armor.

He nodded in appreciation. "So it's Batwoman, is it?"

"Tonight? Yes. Tomorrow? Who knows?" Diana replied with a smile, then surprised him by slipping into him, murmuring a soft "Dance?" then rocking into him before he'd had a chance to reply. As if on cue (he was certain she'd rehearsed it with the group in advance), a number of couples quickly joined them on the dance floor. He played along, cautiously waiting for the next surprise. She didn't say anything, so he decided to break the ice.

"So everyone is Batman tonight? Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Everyone gets to be Batman tonight, Bruce" She replied warmly, then surprised him by kissing him long and hard on the dance floor. "That is, except for you."

"What was that for?" he asked, stunned by the public display of affection.

"For saving me, for taking care of Gotham for as long as you did, and for all you've done for the League," she answered, then gave a little shrug that said 'Oh what the hell?' then kissed him hard again.

The song finished. Bruce slipped out of the embrace, heading for a quiet spot away from the crowd. Refusing to be cast off, Diana surprised him by wrapping an arm around his waist as they walked. "So I take it you set this up?" Batman asked.

Before she could reply, Booster Gold and Vibe lurched into them. Judging by the amount of liquor on their breath, the two of them had decided to pre-party the party.

"Great party, Batwoman!" Booster stammered with a grin.

"Yeah, the cape rocks!" Vibe added. "Thinkin' bout' adding one to my uniform."

"You do that." Batman growled, visibly annoyed by the interruption.

Diana picked up on the tone of his voice, noting it was the one he usually used right before launching an explosive batarang attack. She dropped her arm from his waist then escorted the two men back to the punchbowl.

Bruce watched them go then allowed a moment to survey the crowd. Despite the fact that Lois was pressed against him with two of her best features leading the charge, Clark was edgily watching Nightwing and Kara dirty-dance a few feet away. Batman thought about issuing Nightwing a careful warning then thought better of it. Satisfied he'd appeared at the party long enough, he seized an opportune moment when the crowd was distracted by a particularly risqué dance step Nightwing and Kara were undertaking to make for the exit.

He retreated alone to his room, grateful no one had spied him leave the party. Keying his access code to his room, he paused at the doorway, considering whether he'd risked Diana's wrath in leaving the party after she'd gone to such great lengths to set up. He shook his head, electing to face her wrath rather than deal with a group of drunken Batmen, then the door closed behind him.

The room was dark, his preference. He hung up his cape and cowl on the hook then slipped into the chair at his desk with the intention to start poring over the civilian's security files one more time. He flipped on the light switch at his desk, then jumped with surprised when Diana's voice floated over from the bed.

"Aren't you supposed to be the guest of honor at a party?" she asked with a sultry grin.

'Not my scene." He admitted, rising out of the chair. He did a double-take when he realized that her uniform was draped over a valet stand next to the bed. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing anything under the sheets. He gulped, then decided to keep the topic on subject as long as possible. "When did you get here?"

"Two minutes ago. I knew you'd slip away at the first chance you'd get." She teased. "So I decided to cut you off at the pass."

"Diana, why are you here?" he sighed, wearily settling onto the edge of the bed.

"To remind you that, 'Wherever YOU go, there YOU are'." She replied gently. "I'm going to be here for a long time to remind you who you are. Just because Bruce Wayne isn't a billionaire or works without sleep in a gothic manor anymore, that doesn't mean he's gone. You're still Thomas and Martha Wayne's son first and last, despite everything else that happens."

"That chapter of my life is closed," he protested. "Can't you see that there isn't any need for Bruce Wayne anymore?"

"It doesn't matter if you think of yourself as Batman first, before Bruce Wayne." She responded, carefully measuring her words. "Because I've fallen for _YOU_. Batman and Bruce are interchangeable. One part does not fall by the wayside because of circumstances. You do yourself and the rest of us a disservice when you say that Bruce Wayne has ceased to exist. But most of all, you dishonor your parents. That I will not tolerate."

Stung by the ferocity of her message, his eyebrows knitted in consternation. He heaved a weary sigh, his inner turmoil readily apparent. "I'm not sure I can honor the mission in a meaningful way. My enemies know my weaknesses now. What was difficult before might prove impossible in the future."

"You don't get it, do you?" She sighed, collapsing back onto the pillow with exasperation. "You're part of the League now. If I have to wear the Batwoman suit every night with you on patrol, then that's what I will do. You have fifty teammates here on the 'Tower who are willing to do the same."

He looked at her with resignation, then his countenance changed as he realized what she was offering. "You'd do that for me?"

"Do you love me?"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"Everything. Humor me."

He stared at her long and hard, debating about what consequences a confession might bring. A denial at this critical juncture of their relationship might cause irreparable harm, but the alternative of ending up like John and Shayera looked painful, bleak. He glanced around the room, then his eyes centered on the portrait of his parent's that Alfred had re-hung in his Watchtower residence. 'What do you want?' he silently pleaded, looking at them for answers. There was no reply, but his mother's gaze threatened to singe his skin if he denied how he felt.

"Yes, I do…" he murmured.

"Do what?" she prodded.

"Love you."

"Why?"

"Diana…" he protested, but she cut him off before he could start.

"Tell me why, Bruce. Why do you love me?"

His mouth opened and closed as he searched for the right words. Finally, he decided to list the obvious and see if he could gain any momentum. "Well, there's the obvious things. You're beautiful…smart…tenacious…kind…"

"Go on," she prodded with a smile. "This is good."

"And you're the only one who knows how to deal with my issues." He trailed off lamely.

"As usual, you're right." She whispered smugly, then patted the bed next to her invitingly.

He leaned closer until their faces were just a few inches away, but didn't slide under the sheets just yet. "What about you? If I'm not a billionaire or a cave dweller, who am I to you?"

"A friend and a valued teammate, to be sure," she replied thoughtfully, then pulled back the sheets. As he'd guessed, there was nothing between the sheets and the ethereal skin of the Amazon Princess. She pulled his face down to kiss him, "and from now on, my lover."

**The End**


End file.
